Who Are You?
by ucsbdad
Summary: Set in season Seven, Castle and Beckett have to investigate the long ago shooting of three police officers. The dead officers, like many others in this story, may not be what they seem to be. COMPLETE!
1. Chapter 1

Who Are You?

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I am one of the many who do not own Castle. Rating: M, here and there. Time: The future, season seven.

 **Chapter One**

The foreman picked his way carefully through the partially demolished building to where one of his crews was just standing around.

"Randy, dammit, am I paying you to just stand around and scratch your asses?"

Randy, a tall, African American with a bit of a paunch, pushed his hard hat to the back of his head. "Maybe, Charley. We got something here."

Charley cursed. "Well, get it out of here. That's what we're here for. Well, get to it!"

Randy stood where he was, but his crew started to back away.

"What the hell is it?" Charley demanded.

"Take a look." Randy stood back and pointed to where a hole had been knocked in the wall.

Charley looked in the hole. "Oh, God damn it. Can't you just get that thing out of here?"

Randy took a step backwards. "You expect me to touch that damned thing? The way it looks? And haul the damned thing all the way to the street with everybody looking? Forget it. If you want it moved, you move it. Or better yet, get the damned suits to move it."

Charley actually seemed to be considering moving it himself, but then shook his head. "Any idea what's in the bag?"

"The bag?" Randy asked.

"The bag. The bag by his feet."

Randy looked briefly through the hole. "I don't know and I don't care."

"Crap." Charley grumbled. "Somebody call the damned cops. We'll be lucky if we don't lose a damned week because of this."

"What should we do?"

"Stand around and scratch your asses." Charley growled.

An hour later, Kate Beckett's homicide team arrived. She went past the uniforms and walked to the third floor with her team trailing behind her. Dr. Lanie Parish was already there, checking over the corpse, or rather what was left of the corpse.

"What do we have, Lanie?" She said, kneeling beside her friend.

"This one has been dead for years. He's practically rotted away to just bones. "

"Any idea just how long he's been there?"

"No. It won't be easy to find out, as badly decomposed as he is."

"You're sure it's a he?" Kate asked.

"He had a driver's license on him." Lanie took a clear plastic evidence bag and handed it to Kate.

Kate examined it. "Napoleon Bonaparte Moncrief. The license expired in 2004. So he's been dead for more than ten years. Anything else?"

Castle interrupted. "Did anyone see a tall, English noble in a red coat around here?"

Kate looked up at him. "A what?"

Castle smiled. "Napoleon Bonaparte? It stands to reason he was killed by the Duke of Wellington. Probably at the battle of Waterloo."

Kate smothered her smile. "I don't know why I didn't think of that, Castle. Thanks."

Castle beamed with pride. "Always glad to help. Always."

"There was something else that might be almost important as Castle's very helpful clue." Lanie said.

"What's that?" Kate and Rick asked.

"The bag over there."

"And it's important because….?" Kate asked.

"It's full of hundred dollar bills. At a guess, a couple of hundred thousand dollars."

"A couple of hundred thousand dollars?" Ryan said, bending over to try to get a better view of the bag. "Maybe he's a mystery writer. "

Castle shuddered dramatically. "That is so not funny, Ryan."

"Maybe he was a pest to his muse?" Kate said.

"A writer who's a pest to his muse? Never happen."

Kate smiled up at him. "What was I thinking of?"

"One thing I don't get." Castle said, frowning. "How could the tenants in this place have missed the unmistakable stench of a decomposing body?"

"I may be able to answer that." Eposito said, walking up to the team. "I was talking with the project foreman, Charles Parks. He said the place was closed down years ago. The owner was a slumlord who did absolutely nothing to keep the place up, and just pocketed all the rent. Also didn't pay his property taxes, or have any insurance. Eventually, the city was going to force him to fix the place up, and the other ones he owned just like it, so he just grabbed his cash and headed back home. The foreman thinks we went back to India."

"Okay." Beckett said, "But how does that explain nobody noticing the stench?"

"A pipe from an upstairs toilet broke. Crap poured down into the apartment next door for, god knows how long, until someone managed to shut it off. Not the landlord, of course. Nobody would have noticed the corpse with all the crap next door."

Castle again shuddered. "Gross. But who owns the place now?"

Espo checked his notes. "The city does, now. When the owner left, the city didn't want to take over all of the abandoned and worthless properties in New York and be responsible for them, so they did nothing. Tenants stopped paying rent and the place was taken over by squatters and the homeless."

Espo checked his notes again. "One more thing. The guy was found in a secret room that someone had put in. Mr. Parks said it was a real professional job. His crews didn't notice until they broke through the wall."

"Why are they here now, by the way?" Ryan asked.

"Redevelopment. New condos are going up across Lex and this area is suddenly prime real estate. The city finally took it over for unpaid property taxes and are selling it to a developer for a nice chunk of change."

"Speaking of a nice chunk of change, how did our vic end up with a bag full of hundreds?" Castle asked.

"Drugs." Ryan answered. "Back in the late nineties and early two thousands, this whole neighborhood was one big open air drug super market. Anyone who had that kind of money must have been dealing."

Castle looked around. "So our vic grabs his stash and cash, and heads for his secret room and then gets popped. But why didn't the killer just grab the money and run?"

"Maybe the killer was Virgil Starkwell?" Kate said.

"Who?" Espo asked.

"The character played by Woody Allen in the movie _Take the Money and Run_. Allen played an incompetent crook." Kate explained.

"Couldn't have been Starkwell." Castle said seriously. "The vic would have been shot with a gub."

"How could I have missed that?" Kate said, shaking her head and smiling.

"You've been hanging around with Castle way too long, Beckett." Espo grumped.

Kate stood up. "Okay, let's let Lanie and CSU finish up here. We'll go back to the precinct and see what we can find on Moncrief."

After an hour back at the precinct, they had very little.

"We have a photo of Moncrief from DMV, but that's it so far. I asked records for any files we have on him, but they haven't called back yet. The address on the license is an apartment building in Queens, maybe Espo and I can…."

Ryan stopped when Beckett's phone buzzed. "It's Lanie. She has something for us. Hold off on checking out his address, Ryan. Maybe Lanie will have something more useful than an old address."

With Castle right behind her, she headed for the morgue.

"Got something?" Kate asked.

"It's a murder all right. I got four slugs out of what's left of him, all .38s. I sent them over to ballistics. From what I can make of the damage to his ribcage, he was shot three times in the back." Lanie then pointed to a neat hole in the back of his skull. "Then someone made sure."

"Anything else?" Castle asked.

"I inventoried the bag. He had $278, 500 with him when he died."

"Tried to take it with him?"

Both women gave Castle a look.

"There's more." Lanie continued. There was a switchblade knife in the bag with what looks like blood on it. There's also what looks like blood on some of the hundreds on top."

Kate nodded. "So our vic was jumped by someone who wanted his cash. He pulled a knife, stabbed his assailant and got shot for his troubles. That could explain why the killer left the bag behind. He was wounded."

"And maybe bled out and never could come back for the loot. We should check for stabbing victims at local emergency rooms and for anyone found dead of a stab wound." Castle added.

Kate frowned. "That's an awful lot of paperwork to go over. All we know about the time of death is sometime before 2004. "

Before Castle could make his excuses, Lanie spoke up. "I might be able to help. There was a notebook at the bottom of the bag. It had entries beginning in February 1998 running to May 2001. The dates were about two months apart and next to each was a six figure number. Whoever wrote it didn't put a dollar sign in front of the numbers, but if he was keeping track of money, he collected over five and a half million dollars."

Castle whistled softly. "That could get you killed."

"One more thing." Lanie added. "I found a cheap camera in the bag, too. There was a roll of exposed film still on it. I sent it to the lab to be processed. Maybe it'll be a help."

"More likely its shots of our vics last birthday party." Castle grumbled.

"What?" Kate said, doing her best to sound shocked. "You don't think we'll find ghostly images of the murder in the camera? Somehow taken after our vic was dead? With the _Twilight Zone_ theme playing on them?"

Castle looked very superior and replied, " _My_ theory is that he was a courier for a secret terrorist organization who was assassinated by a beautiful lady spy, who even now is smiting our enemies."

"And you want to meet this beautiful lady spy, I assume?" Kate said softly.

"Me? Of course not. The thought never occurred to me. Why would I want to meet a beautiful lady spy? Unless it was you."

"Good answer, Castle." Lanie called to Kate and her partner as they left.

When Beckett and Castle arrived at the precinct the next morning, Ryan and Esposito were already there.

"What've we got?" Kate asked.

"Nothing." Ryan said disgustedly. "We've got nothing."

"Nothing?" Kate said, surprised. "How could we have nothing? We must have gotten something."

Espo shook his head. "Records told us that they've had a computer meltdown, so they have to locate all the records manually. And that takes time."

"What about ballistics?" Castle asked.

"Ballistics and CSU say they've got a bunch of rush jobs. We're just going to wait our turn."

Kate thought for a moment. "Okay. Espo, you and Ryan go to the address on Moncrief's driver's license. It's a long shot, but maybe someone there remembers something about him. Every apartment building seems to have nosy neighbor who knows everyone else's business." She turned to her partner. "Castle and I'll check out the neighborhood. See if anyone knew Moncrief, or anything about the building."

The first place Beckett and Castle checked out was a little bodega across the street from the crime scene. It seemed like the kind of place that the former residents would go to.

"Moncrief? Napoleon Bonaparte Moncrief?" The man behind the counter said, staring at the DMV photo of their vic.

Kate nodded and smiled. "It would have been in the early two thousands. He was found shot to death in the building across the street."

"Shot to death and you're just finding him now? Sure you don't want to wait another couple of years to investigate? "

"He was hidden in a secret compartment." Castle said quickly. He know that Beckett wouldn't take the implied criticism of her homicide team at all well.

The man shook his head. "Can't say that I recognize him. But I made a point back in those days of not looking at anyone too closely. That sort of thing could get you a bullet."

"That bad?" Castle said, sympathetically.

"Yeah. The place was a damned shooting gallery, in more ways than one, back then. We had more frigging drug dealers than junkies, so the dealers would try to cut down on the competition with a gun. I couldn't tell you how many murders we had just on this block alone. Add in the junkies OD'ing, and we could have used a branch office of the morgue."

"What did the police do?" Castle asked, getting a glare from Kate.

"Damn little. Of course no one would talk to them back then. Worth your life, it was. I saw a guy get shot right in front of my door." He pointed to his doorway and shuddered. "I knew the guy who did it, too. But when the cops came, I told them I was under the counter and didn't see a thing. Just as well, a couple of months later and the shooter was dead, too. Him and some hooker blasted in his car by a couple of guys with shotguns. No loss, really."

"Any idea who might know Moncrief?" Beckett asked.

The man scratched his unshaven jaw. "You might try Gracie three doors down. Runs a coffee shop for her older brother. She's the block gossip. Always knows what's everybody's doing."

Castle and Beckett ordered coffees at Gracie's. Neither was expecting much, but they were pleasantly surprised. "Hey, this is good." Castle said, smiling at the slender, grey haired, dark complexioned Hispanic who served them. "Where do you get it from?"

The woman laughed. "My family comes from Nicaragua. During the war down there, some of us went to Costa Rica and some came here. The ones in Costa Rica send me the coffee."

"So, you're Gracie?" Beckett asked.

"Sure am, Detective." Gracie said with a smile.

"Are we that obvious?"

Gracie nodded, still laughing. "Once, well dressed white folks used to come to this neighborhood to score drugs. Now the only time we see anyone like you is when there's a crime. I heard they found an old, dead body down the street. That's why you're here?"

Castle and Beckett both nodded. Beckett pulled out the photo of Moncrief. "Ever see this man? His name's Napoleon Bonaparte Moncrief. He's the one we found in the building."

Gracie pulled a pair of glasses out and carefully looked at the photo. She nodded. "I remember him, but I never knew his name. He hung around here in the late nineties, early two thousands. He'd come in about once a week in a big, old Cadillac and talk to the drug dealers. A money man, I think."

"Do you know anyone that's still around that might have known him?" Kate asked.

Gracie thought for a while. "There was a girl. Pretty little thing, name of Diana. She always rode in the back seat with him. He really liked her, I think."

"Do you know her last name?"

Gracie shook her head. "Won't do you any good. She died of a drug overdose." She stared at the ceiling. "It was…2010. She wasn't so pretty any more. Shame." Gracie shook her head.

"The dealers?" Castle asked.

"Dead or in jail. Some moved on, I guess. Your people would know better than I would." Gracie smiled. "Wait. Moncrief was a Haitian. Talk to Jean-Paul, on the corner, he's Haitian, too. He's a tailor. Moncrief used to go there all the time."

Castle asked for and got the name of the coffee that Gracie used and where it could be purchased in New York. Then they left.

"Napoleon Bonaparte Moncrief." Jean-Paul Hebert nodded solemnly. "He always needed his suits altered. Forty four waist and twenty eight inch inseams. His suit coats were always too long because he had these really wide shoulders and a long body…"

"Do you know anything about who might have wanted to kill him?" Beckett interrupted.

"The street out there used to be covered with people who wanted him dead. Rival drug dealers, rival drug gangs. All gone now. His own people are all dead, too, I hear. The d'Erlons. Three brothers and some cousins. All from Haiti. All got killed."

Beckett nodded. "The d'Erlon brothers. I vaguely remember hearing about them. I was still a uniform when they were active, though. We should be able to find out something about them from Narcotics." She turned back to Mr. Hebert. "Anything else you can tell us about Moncrief?"

Hebert shrugged. "He had very small feet."

Beckett sighed. "Thank you for your help."

"Always happy to help. And If you need any tailoring or alterations, I have a special law enforcement rate." He called to Castle as they left.

Once back at the precinct, they found Ryan and Esposito waiting for them. "What did you find at Moncrief's old apartment?" Kate asked.

"Damn little."Espo said. "We didn't find anyone who knew Moncrief and the manager said their records don't go back past seven years. We did find the neighborhood busy body who remembered a young woman whose name was Moncrief. Described her as pretty, in her twenties, Haitian, well dressed and well spoken. She did remember an older man coming around every couple of months or so who might have been our vic. She thought he might have been a relation. She didn't think they were lovers, but you can never tell."

"Did you get a first name?"

"Luci, spelled with an "I". And she dotted the "I" with a little heart."

"That's useful." Kate grumped. She told the two detectives what she and Castle had found. "We'll ask Narcotics what they can tell us about the d'Erlons and Moncrief. They should have something in their files. Maybe some of their older people remember them."

"Oh, crap. "Ryan said, "Look who just got off the elevator."

They all turned to look. The woman was indeed striking. Tall, slender and toned looking, she had long, glossy black hair that framed a face with high cheekbones and surprisingly deep blue eyes set in a cinnamon colored face with a slight epicanthic eye fold. She wore a skirt that stopped just above the knees, showing off excellent legs. Her sweater was tight enough to show off a very nice set of boobs. In short, a total babe. Castle noticed a gold shield on her belt and could tell she was armed.

She walked right by the detectives without even glancing at them and walked into Captain Gates' office, closing the door behind her.

"Who was that?" Castle asked.

"Interested, Castle?" Beckett teased.

"Yes, but not in the way I'm interested in you."

Kate smiled at the compliment. "Lieutenant Lisa Bergdahl. Her mother was Irish and Korean and her father was Swedish and Iroquois. She started out in Vice, and she was very, very good there. Now she works for Internal Affairs. And she makes Gates look like a gushing teenaged girl."

"Tough?" Castle asked, already plotting a scene for the next Nikki Heat book.

"Oh, yes. Tough and cold. And if she's come here instead of calling us into her office, someone is in big trouble. Really big trouble. "


	2. Chapter 2

Who Are You?

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Remember me? I'm the guy who doesn't own Castle. Rating: M Time: Season Seven.

 **Chapter Two**

"HoBo's looks exactly the same." The first young woman said.

Alexis Castle grinned. "Did you expect it would have changed?"

"So what's the big deal about this place, Alexis?" The other one said.

"When Buttons and I were in middle school, HoBo's was _the_ place to go. Everybody came here. Jocks, nerds, Goths, good girls, everyone."

Buttons giggled. "Then we got to high school. _Nobody_ went to HoBo's because…"

"Only middle school _children_ went to HoBo's." Alexis finished for her. "We were far too cool to go to HoBo's."

"So, shall we relive the days of our youth?" Buttons asked, opening the door. The three walked in.

They walked to the back where an elderly Vietnamese man was working behind the counter. Alexis and Buttons noticed that he seemingly hadn't changed a bit.

"Hi, Mr. Ho. "Alexis called out. "How's it going?"

Mr. Ho looked up and smiled. "Alexis Castle? I haven't seen you in years." He looked over at Buttons. "And Buttons Dutton?" He shook his head. "Oh, I'm sorry. You're probably way too cool and sophisticated to be called Buttons any more.

Buttons laughed. "I'll always be Buttons in here, Mr. Ho."

Mr. Ho looked at the third woman. "I must be getting old. I'm afraid I don't recognize you, young lady."

"I've never been here before. I'm Carolyn Hoff. I'm a friend of Alexis' and Button's. We go to Columbia together."

"Columbia!" Mr. Ho, said, impressed. "A very good school, but what I'd expect of you two. What are you majoring in?"

"Buttons and I are pre-med." Alexis said, proudly.

"I'm studying journalism." Carolyn said. "So when these two get their Nobel Prize, I can get a scoop."

"Speaking of scoops, we need some ice cream." Alexis said.

Once they had their ice creams, they sat in the back so they could observe the crowd in HoBo's. "Looks like it's still all middle schoolers." Alexis said.

"Not everyone." Carolyn muttered. "Look at the guys at the other end of the aisle from us. I saw five motorcycles outside. Theirs, no doubt."

Five young men were sitting at the far end of the aisle, dressed much alike. Boots, tight jeans, either black or faded blue, leather jackets, sunglasses and very short haircuts. One man took his jacket off, displaying well-tattooed arms. All together a tough looking group. And not anyone the ladies wanted to have to deal with.

"They're equal opportunity outlaw bikers." Buttons observed. "An Asian, two Hispanics, an African American and a white guy." She jerked her head away. "Crap. They're looking at us. Don't look."

Alexis couldn't help it. She looked. The Asian said something and pointed to them. The rest laughed. The white guy said something and the black guy punched him lightly in the shoulder. Then they went back to their food. Cheeseburgers and fries from the look of it.

The three young women sat eating their ice cream and discussing the good old days for a while. Suddenly Buttons choked on her ice cream.

Alexis pounded on her friend's back. "You okay, Buttons?"

"The white guy over there. He took off his shades. We know him."

Alexis looked over at the bikers. "He looks familiar. But I'm not sure we really know him. Maybe we've just seen him around." She said uncertainly.

"No. That's Vince Peake. I'm sure of it." Buttons whispered.

"Who's Vince Peake?" Carolyn asked.

"We went to high school with him. We didn't exactly move in the same circles, but that's Vince, all right." Alexis stood up and headed for the other table.

"Alexis! Don't." Buttons whispered at her friends retreating back.

As Alexis walked up to the biker's table, she saw they were checking her out. And in a manner she didn't appreciate. It was too late, she had to keep walking.

She stopped by the table. "Vince Peake?"

Peake looked up at her. "Alexis Castle. Still hanging out at HoBo's, are you?"

"Who's the _chica_?" Said one Hispanic.

"Yeah. Who's _La Rojita_ here?" Said the other.

"We graduated from high school together." Peake said, his eyes were invisible behind his mirrored shades, but Alexis was sure he was looking at her boobs.

"She graduated from high school?" Said the tall, wiry Hispanic. "Me too."

The Asian laughed. "You had to stick a fuckin' pistol in your principal's ear to get your diploma, _Flaco_."

The Hispanic took on an air of injured innocence. "Things are different in Juarez. Not like across the border." He looked back at Alexis. "Introduce us, dude."

Peake shrugged. "Alexis Castle, this is Cowboy." He said, pointing to the Asian, who smiled at her. "That's Tuco." Tuco was a short, blocky Hispanic with an acne scarred face. "Next is Flaco." Flaco was the wiry Hispanic. "Last and least is J Boy." The African American nodded to her.

"So what do you do?" Asked Cowboy.

"Pre-med at Columbia." She said.

"About what I'd expect from you." Peake stood up, said "Out of here.", and started to head for the door. His friends began following him.

"What are you doing?" Alexis asked.

Peake turned around and smirked at her. "Living the dream, girl. I'm living the dream."

And they were gone.

Alexis walked back to her friends.

"It was Vince, wasn't it?" Buttons asked breathlessly.

"Yeah. And his friends."

"What did he say?" Carolyn asked.

Alexis shrugged. "Not much. He introduced me to his friends, but they just used nicknames."

Buttons nodded. "That way it'll be harder to identify them."

Alexis frowned at Buttons. "Really? Buttons, most bikers are lawyers, or accountants, or cops like my mom. It takes money to buy a Harley, so they have to be…"

"Drug dealers. Or gunrunners." Buttons replied. "Did those guys look like lawyers? They look like those guys on that TV show."

Alexis heard the roar of motorcycle engines and saw the five men drive away.

"Vince Peake, an outlaw biker. Probably the first from Marlowe Prep." Alexis said softly.

"Just be glad he's gone. Him and his friends are trouble." Buttons said.

…

Kate and her team surreptitiously watched Captain Gates and her guest. Lieutenant Bergdahl seemed to do most of the talking. Gates appeared to be none too happy with whatever it was she was hearing. Finally Gates got up and opened her door. "Detective Beckett? Bring your team in please."

When they were all inside, Castle noticed Bergdahl was glaring at him. Not that being glared at in that office was so unusual.

"Gates."Bergdahl snapped. "I'm not happy about bringing some civilian into this."

Gates smiled, which surprised the entire team. "Mr. Castle has been a part of Detective Beckett's team for years. If he's suddenly kicked off, people will notice and talk. And I had understood that we wanted to keep this quiet for as long as possible."

Bergdahl frowned. "Mr. Castle, none of this will ever go into one of your books, understand? None of it!"

"Of course not." Castle said, wondering how he could get something a bit like this into a Nikki Heat book without getting exactly this into the book.

Bergdahl glared at the team. They would find out that the glare was her default expression. "You now work for me and no one but me. Understand?"

They all nodded and mumbled affirmative noises, while silently noting that understanding was not the same as agreeing. Kate had trained her team well.

"You've undoubtedly noticed that you haven't been getting anything back on the Moncrief murder. That's because everything has been going to Internal Affairs. But now we need to investigate the killing and One PP has decided that homicide, under the control of IA will do the job."

She looked around as if expecting a comment, but no one did. "Did anyone recognize the building where your found Moncrief?"

The team looked at each other, then solemnly shook their heads.

"Do you recall the Borden Court shootings years ago?"

"Crap!" Espo said. "It was there. In that building."

Kate nodded. "I remember hearing about it over the radio in my unit when I was still a uniform."

Castle raised his hand. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about."

Bergdahl glared at Castle, then at Gates. Castle caught a subtext of "I told you so." in the look. "Mr. Castle, on May 16, 2001, three police officers went to that building after a concerned citizen reported a man carrying a baby and a gun entering the building. When they got the lobby, they were ambushed. At least six shooters from the shell cases and slugs recovered. One AK 47, two .45 caliber MAC 10s, two shotguns and an Israeli Galil assault rifle were found three days later in a dumpster a dozen blocks away and ballisticly matched as the murder weapons."

"The dead officers were Sergeant James Dunn, Officer Neal Borelli, and Officer David Grenzler."

"There was an exhaustive investigation, but no evidence IDing the shooters ever surfaced. Word on the street was that the shooters were the Tonton Macoutes."

"The bogeymen?" Castle said, surprised.

"Castle!" Beckett said sharply. "This is no time for your…"

"Actually, Mr. Castle is correct." Bergdahl broke in.

Castle smiled and just barely avoided sticking his tongue out at Kate. "Tonton Macoute is, literally translated from the Haitian Creole French, Uncle Gunnysack. Like the bogeyman, Uncle Gunnysack grabs naughty children and eats them. However, Tonton Macoute was also the nickname of the Haitian secret police under the Duvalier family who ran Haiti from the 1950s to the 1980s. Some of them are still active in Haiti, although they're no longer the secret police, just thugs."

Bergdahl nodded. "The d'Erlon family were never part of the Tonton Macoutes in Haiti, but took the name to terrify the local Haitian community in Miami when they came to the US. However, the gang was run out of Miami by larger, richer and better established Cuban and African American drug gangs. They then located to New York in the mid 90's."

"You suspect the d'Erlons were involved in the four murders?" Kate asked.

"We know they're connected. Moncrief was the Tonton Macoute's money man. He was responsible for laundering the gang's money for them."

"What's the connection with the police killings?" Castle asked.

"The .38 slugs that we recovered from Moncrief's body were in the system. They came from Sergeant Dunn's issued weapon. The blood found on the switch blade knife and the money was DNA matched to Officer Borelli. The handwriting on the notebook was from Officer Grenzler. We developed the film in the camera that was found in the bag." Bergdahl took some photos from a file and spread them on the desk. They were shots of the three police officers and four young women. Present in several of the photos were lines of a white powder on a mirror.

Ryan was unable to suppress a long, low whistle. "I'm betting that none of those women are the cop's wives."

Bergdahl nodded. "We're running them through facial recognition. We may or not get anything."

"This is going to be…" Espo began.

"It is, Detective Esposito. Those three officers were buried with full honors. The mayor spoke at the funeral, as did the police commissioner and the chief of police. Those three are official NYPD heroes and now we have to investigate them as suspects. Murder suspects."

"How much latitude do we have in the investigation?" Kate asked, picking her words carefully.

Bergdahl glared at her. "If you're asking if One PP would rather this be swept under the rug and forgotten about, the answer is no. If One PP wanted this buried, you'd have never heard of this."

Castle asked the obvious question. "Is there any real chance of finding anything about this after all this time?"

Bergdahl nodded. "We have two things. The notebook that Officer Grenzler wrote indicates they stole five and a half million dollars from drug gangs. None of the money ever showed up. The families never found a few million hidden in anybody's attic, or in a hidden bank account. Also, these were street cops. We can't see any way that they could have had good enough intel to know when and where that amount of drug money was to be able to steal it. We suspect someone gave them the tips and now has the money. And they're smart enough to have sat on it all these years."

Kate shook her ahead and was about to say something when Bergdahl cut her off.

"We also have a witness that was with Sergeant Dunn right up to the minute of the shootings."

"A witness?" Kate said. "I never heard there was a witness. Why didn't he testify?"

"He did. But at the time, no one believed him." Bergdahl took out an NYPD personnel file. "Officer Henry McCarty. Right out of the academy back in May, 2001. He was assigned to ride with an experienced officer, Sergeant Dunn, to break him in."

"Why didn't they believe him?" Castle asked.

"Because he said that Dunn told him to go to a bodega two blocks away and get Dunn an ice cream sandwich. He was two blocks away when the shooting occurred. At the time, everyone assumed that McCarty either had refused to go in, or that he had run away. That he was a coward."

Kate nodded. "If Dunn and his friends were going back to pick up the cash they'd left behind after killing Moncrief, they wouldn't want some rookie that they didn't know right there with them."

"So, all we need to do is call McCarty in and get his story." Kate stopped and thought. "But why didn't someone check his story at the time? Surely someone must have seen him."

Bergdahl shook her head. "No one saw anything, anything at all. Not the cops going in the building or McCarty going to the bodega. The clerk at the bodega wasn't sure if he had seen McCarty."

"Standard back then." Ryan said. "A drug gang killing some cops? No one would have seen a thing."

"So when can we get McCarty in and get his statement?"

"We're not sure, Detective Beckett. The NYPD has ways of unofficially handling people who they feel don't measure up to their standards. Nobody in the 12th wanted to work with McCarty because they thought he was a coward. So, he was transferred to personnel at One PP."

Kate looked over to Castle. "There are lot of jobs at One PP that, by law, need to be done by police officers. So, officers who are in some way suspect, can get transferred there and away from real police work. It's regarded as a career killer."

"McCarty was told that he'd never get out of personnel." Bergdahl added. "He stuck it out for a little more than a year. He put in requests for transfers for SWAT, K-9 unit, bomb disposal, and god knows what else, but was turned down by everyone. As far as anyone in the NYPD was concerned he was a coward and not wanted. Finally, he sent in his resignation. We have no idea where he is."

"How about his family?" Ryan asked.

"McCarty was from a police family. His granddad was a cop. His dad and his uncles were cops. His one aunt married a cop. His brothers and cousins were cops, NYPD, Port Authority, New York State Police, even one guy who's FDNY and works as an arson investigator. His wife was also from a cop family. Apparently the family disowned him and his wife dumped him. I talked to his oldest brother. They haven't heard from McCarty since he resigned."

"So?" Castle asked, frowning.

"We contacted the FBI, maybe they have some record of him."

"I'm betting he's as far from New York as he can get." Espo said.

"Yeah, and with a fourteen year plus head start, he'll be hard to find." Ryan added.

"Which doesn't mean we won't look." Bergdahl said coldly, as if she suspected the team was giving up before they started. She glanced at her watch. "I need to be somewhere else. I'm sending you everything we have on the case. It should be here shortly." She turned to Kate, ignoring Gates. "Remember you work for me and this is your only case. Be as closed mouth as you can be on this one. A lot of people won't be happy with where this investigation is going."

With that, Bergdahl left.

Gates stood up. "Well, get to it people."

Castle smiled at Gates, a smile that was not returned. "Sir, thank you for including me on this."

Now Gates did smile. "Oh, Mr. Castle, I wouldn't dream of depriving Lieutenant Bergdahl of the pleasure of your help on this case." Castle was pretty sure that what he was seeing was not Gates' happy smile.

The team gathered around Kate's desk. "What happened to McCarty sucks." She said.

"The NYPD decides he's a coward, which he wasn't, his family dumps him and so does his wife. What with the police grapevine, any kind of law enforcement job is not going to happen." Espo said.

"Maybe it's what he wanted." Ryan said. "I knew a guy in Narcotics who was from a cop family. Became a cop because that's what his family did. He hated it. Put up with it for five years and resigned. Last I heard he was running a deep sea fishing boat on the Texas Gulf coast."

"What did Bergdahl mean by people not liking where this was going?" Castle asked.

Kate looked around before answering. "A lot of cops will take the part of dirty cops. They just hate to think that their brothers in blue are really bad people. They blame everybody but the dirty cops. And remember, we're going after three heroes and trying to prove they were three crooks. A lot of people won't want to see that."

"Oh crap." Ryan said and pointed to the elevator. Three hand carts piled high with banker's boxes were being pushed out of the elevator.

"Detective Beckett?" Said a voice from behind the boxes. "Where do you want the first ones?"

"First ones?"

….

Rick and Kate were tired when they finally made it back to the loft. "We should order some Chinese, babe." Kate said. "I don't think either of us are in any mood to cook."

Rick nodded and pulled out his cell phone.

"Before you do anything, you might wish to talk to Alexis." Martha said, peeking out from Rick's office.

"Why should Alexis…And why are you in my office."

Martha smiled. "I just needed something. And Alexis was not in a good mood when she came home. She mumbled something about a guy she met."

Rick nodded tiredly. "I'll go talk to her."

"A woman's touch might be better, kiddo."

Rick turned to Kate. "You want to try this one?"

Kate didn't, but she nodded and went up the stairs to Alexis' room. The door was open so she stuck her head inside. "You okay, Alexis?"

"I guess."

Kate walked in and sat on the bed with Alexis. "You just guess you're okay? That doesn't sound okay."

Alexis looked at the floor for several minutes. "I saw a guy I went to Marlowe Prep with, Vince Peake."

"Old boyfriend?"

Alexis shook her head. "Just a guy I knew. We didn't run in the same circles. But he didn't show up at graduation and just disappeared. I know he was accepted at Rutgers, but never went there."

"Maybe he went somewhere else." Kate was having trouble figuring out the problem.

Alexis took a deep breath. "I saw him today. He was different." Alexis told Kate about her meeting with Vince Peake and his friends. "It was hard to tell since he was wearing sunglasses, but he was checking out my body. Like I was a piece of meat. The old Vince wasn't like that."

Kate guessed that if Vince was male and had a pulse, he was like that, but didn't say anything to Alexis. "People change, Alexis. If he wants to be some outlaw biker, you can't stop him. But, as a Harley rider myself, you may be blowing this all out of proportion. Vince and his friends may be like a lot of bikers. Perfectly respectable people who try to look like mean outlaw bikers on the weekend, or on vacation."

Alexis sighed. "I guess you're right."

"Want Chinese for dinner?"

Alexis smiled. "Sure."


	3. Chapter 3

Who Are You?

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I still don't own Castle. Rating: M Time: The future.

 **Chapter Three**

Richard Castle put down the file he had been reading and turned to Kate. "Is there some reason that NYPD detectives can't or won't use Spell Check? That's the third detective that spells perpetrator as P-E-R-P-E-R-A-T-O-R. Or is this some sort of police inside joke thing? The secret code of a secret society of police dedicated to hunting down zombies? Or, maybe…"

Kate's glare stopped him. "Babe, if this boring police work isn't for you, you know you could go home and come back when we have something more to your liking."

Castle thought that Kate almost sounded like she meant it. "No. Not going to happen. " He said quickly. "Human memories being what they are, this is our best chance to find anything. And that's not saying a lot."

"So what should we do, bro?" Esposito asked. "Just go through the motions?"

"Of course not. I wouldn't be sitting here with you guys if I thought we should just go through the motions. There just has to be an easier way to do this. I mean, look." Castle gestured to the Great Wall of Boxes that contained all of the files on the shooting, the dead officers, the one living ex-police witness, and files on every officer who might have been involved with the three dead and presumably dirty officers, and all of the gang members who may have had some knowledge of the crime. "Each one of us has to read every file. Couldn't we put everything on some giant government super computer and have it collate the information…"

"And provide the names of the killers and any other dirty cops, bro?" Espo shook his head. "That would put us out of a job."

"You too." Ryan added. "A computer that good would write your books for you."

"Heresy." Castle grumped. "You have no understanding of the creative process."

"As long as we have a break here," Kate broke in, "has anyone seen a pattern here? Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Yeah." Espo said quickly. "The pattern is that three cops walk into a building, there's more gunfire than there was at Fallujah, another cop walks two blocks to get an ice cream, and no one heard or saw a thing."

"I noticed something." Ryan spoke up. "There seems to have been a hell of a lot more effort put into trying to prove that that this McCarty guy was a coward than in finding the killers."

"You know what witnesses are like when a violent gang are concerned. They aren't going to say a word." Espo countered.

Kate thought for a second. "Maybe there was a method in their madness. They figured that people in that neighborhood would want to get a cop fired, so they concentrated on that. And if a witness started talking, they'd start asking him about other things until they got something on the shooters out of him."

"If that was their plan, "Castle said, holding up a file, "it didn't work. There's nothing about McCarty in anything I've seen so far. It's like he wasn't even there."

"I tell you, bro, it's hear no evil, see no evil and say no evil."

Castle began staring at the far wall. "Here's an idea. These cops were presumably stealing from different drug gangs. Maybe we should talk to the gang mambers."

"Sure." Kate said. "We'll just stroll by and say, "Hi, we're the NYPD, care to tell us about your drug dealing and any thefts by dirty cops?" That might not work out, Castle."

"Well, when you put it that way…"

"Speaking of dirty cops," Ryan looked over their heads towards the elevator. "Hey, Riley! You taken your annual bath yet?"

"Nah." Said the cop approaching Kate's team. "I'm waiting for your mom to come around to wash me off." He smiled at Kate and held out his hand. "Detective Jim Riley, Narcotics. I see you got stuck with the Irish Plague when we finally got him out of Narcotics. Get any work out of him?"

"More than you did, I guess." Kate replied, but with a smile.

"Riley here was famous as the dirtiest cop in all of New York. Maybe in all of the US."

Riley leaned on Kate's desk. "Yeah. Go undercover as a homeless bum, the sergeant said. It'll only be for three, four hours max. Yeah! I was undercover for five freakin' days. Some drunk barfed all over me and some stoned college kid peed all over me."

"His cover was perfect." Ryan said, laughing.

"Yeah, when we finally collared our perp, I sat right next to him in interrogation. He confessed like that. I had to take four showers before my wife would let me sit at the dinner table with her."

"And no one in Narcotics has ever let him forget any of it." Ryan added, still laughing.

"So, I understand you need some background on drug dealers back in the day? Specifically, the Tonton Macoutes?"

"Pull up a chair and tell us all about them?" Kate invited.

Riley sat and put a thick file down on Kate's desk. "This is our file on them, but I'll hit the high spots for you. The leaders were the three d'Erlon brothers and two cousins, also named d'Erlon. Showed up here from Miami in about 1996 and set up shop in Little Haiti, selling drugs. There was a lot of competition back then and they proved to be as violent and dangerous as anyone else. But, they didn't have the money or the manpower to survive a full scale war. Both the M-19, a Central American gang, and the King George Street Boys, Jamaicans, decided to take them out. At Emile d'Erlon's birthday in 2003, a whole group of shooters broke into his party and opened fire. When the smoke cleared, everybody was dead. The only surviving D'Erlon was Julian, one of Emile's cousins who had been late to the party. He grabbed what money he could and went back to Haiti. Most of the rest of the gang left town or went to work with whoever would have them."

"What about the two other gangs?" Castle asked.

"Most of the New York M-19s were busted by the Feds a couple of years later. Those not still in jail were deported. And the Jamaicans were absorbed, so to speak, by Vulcan Simmons. When that fell apart, the ones still living, and out of jail, scattered."

"Vulcan Simmons?" Kate said softly. Castle reached over and took her hand, squeezing it lightly.

"Did anyone take over for Simmons after his death?" Castle asked.

Riley shook his head. "No. Existing gangs grabbed his territory. Most of the Jamaicans still in the life were, and still are, small timers."

"Any rumors of drug gangs being ripped off?" Ryan asked.

Riley smiled. "All the time. Why go out and sell drugs at the retail level when you can steal it wholesale?"

"Any real big, or long term, robberies like that?"

Riley looked at the ceiling and scratched his ear. "Not that I can recall. Any reason?"

"We have a dead money man, Napoleon Moncrief, a former Tonton Macoute. His body was found recently in the same building where three cops were killed back in 2001. It looks like he was ripped off and then killed."

"You think there's a connection? The cops walked in on something and got killed?"

Kate shrugged. "It's a theory. But, it's really hard to pinpoint time of death after all this time. Moncrief could have been dead for months before the shooting, or walking around six months after, our ME can't tell. We're looking, but it's hard to find anything."

"But you could have something on those cop killers?" Riley said, suddenly enthused.

"Hey, don't go overboard here." Ryan cautioned. "You know what the chances are of solving a murder that old are. All we have is two killings in the same building. Given what that area was like back in the day, I'm surprised we don't find old dead bodies all the time. We just need to look at the cop killings and see if we find anything. We don't need every cop in New York calling us up wanting to know what's what. We may never solve any of these."

"Can you give us anything about other gangs operating at that time?" Castle asked. "If we know who was getting ripped off and who wasn't maybe we can find a pattern."

Riley nodded. "I'll see what I can do. I know a couple of old retired Narcotics detectives who were really knowledgeable back in the day. I'll talk to them, too."

Riley left and Kate and her team looked at the new, thick file they would have to read. "Do you think that Narcotics cops used Spell Check?" Castle asked.

"If they're Narcotics cops, you'll probably find most of their reports are written in crayon, bro." That got Esposito a glare from Ryan.

They continued reading and eventually decided that it was time for lunch. They had just stood up to go to Remy's when Lieutenant Bergdahl got out of the elevator and stomped into Gates' office. "Stay where you are." She snarled at Kate and her team as she slammed the door.

The team watched as Bergdahl got seriously into Gates' face. They couldn't tell what was being said, but it was obvious that a serious argument was in progress.

"I'm betting that Gates knocks her out with one punch. "Castle said, fascinated. "Bergdahl's big and rangy, but my money's on Captain Crusher, the 12th Precinct Punisher, the Scourge of..."

"Uh oh." Beckett spoke. Gates and Bergdahl both turned, glared at the team and beckoned them to come in.

"Did you speak to anyone about this investigation, in spite of my specific orders to keep it quiet?" Bergdahl fumed.

Everyone quickly said they had not.

Bergdahl turned on Gates. "I knew it was a bad idea to bring an untrained civilian into this."

Gates bristled at the criticism. "I have every confidence that none of my people leaked anything and considering who you heard it from, there may be no leak in the NYPD at all."

Bergdahl just glared at one and all.

"What happened, sir?" Kate asked.

Bergdahl answered. "I got a call from the US Attorney's Office in Manhattan. They want to see us about our request to the FBI concerning Mr. McCarty. They specifically asked me to bring Captain Gates, Detectives Beckett, Esposito and Ryan and Mr. Richard Castle to the meeting. They know about the investigation."

"Do you think they've bugged the precinct?" Castle asked.

Bergdahl gave Castle an especially severe glare and headed for the elevator. "We have an appointment at One St. Andrew's Plaza at two PM, people."

Rick and Kate drove to the US Attorney's office in her car.

"Any idea why the US Attorney's office is involved in this?" he asked.

"Yes. And it's probably not good. He may be the subject of a criminal investigation. He wouldn't be the first ex-cop to use his law enforcement training for his own financial gain. And considering how he must feel about the NYPD and police in general, he may well have gone rogue. Or, he may be a confidential informant. Arrested and giving the choice of testifying and going into witsec or going to jail. In either case, the US Attorney is likely to tell us to leave him alone."

"Can they do that?"

Kate nodded. "They could charge us with obstruction of justice. They'd probably drop the charges eventually. They don't want to piss off the NYPD that badly, but we could spend a couple of months fighting the charges and by the time we were able to get back to Moncrief's murder and the rest, who knows what we'd find. If anything."

"Do we really need McCarty that badly?"

Kate thought about that for a while. "We don't know. He may know nothing. Or, he may be the key to the whole thing."

Castle frowned. "I just had a terrible idea you won't like."

Kate sighed. "Tell me."

"We've been assuming that McCarty wasn't involved in this. That he was sent away by the dirty cops. Suppose he was dirty, too. Somehow he missed the killing of the other three cops, and knowing where the rest of the five and a half million was, he hung around long enough to make it look good, then took off with his ill- gotten gains. That might explain his disappearance and why the US Attorney is interested in him."

"Why would three dirty cops trust a kid just out of the academy that they didn't know?"

"Maybe he was like that cop that Ryan knew. He hated being a cop, but family pressure pushed him into it. He walks in on the three cops with a bag of cash and a dead drug dealer and says he wants in. The three dirty cops can either take him in, or kill him. Taking him in is easier."

"You're right. I hate that idea."

The officers arrived at the US Attorney's office and were directed to the office of the US Attorney himself.

"The US Attorney wants to see us?" Gates said to Bergdahl. "This is not good."

Bergdahl said nothing.

They were ushered into an office on the top floor. A short, blocky, but very well dressed Hispanic man rose from behind his desk. He gave them a professional smile and invited them to sit. "I'm Carlos Cruz-Reynoso, US Attorney for the Southern District of New York." The smile faded. "I've been asked to talk to you personally about your request for some information from the Federal Government."

"About Henry McCarty?" Bergdahl said.

"Yes. Had it been up to us, this meeting would never have taken place and you would have been told nothing. However, for some reason, the mayor has taken and interest in this case, and has called in some favors in Washington. In particular, the new junior senator from New York was particularly interested when told that Detective Beckett and her husband was involved. Quite understandable, as he owes his election to former Senator Bracken's downfall."

Bergdahl and Gates looked sharply at Castle. Ryan and Esposito looked away and Kate took his hand. "I never talked to the mayor about this." Castle said in his defense.

"The mayor was informed by…people in the upper echelons at One Police Plaza. They find it…convenient to keep the mayor in the loop." Cruz-Reynoso said, somewhat distastefully. "There are leaks everywhere these days. However, to decide how to answer your request, I need to know why you need to speak to McCarty." Cruz-Reynoso sat down and stared at his visitors, waiting for them to speak.

Lieutenant Bergdahl explained the case to the US Attorney.

When she was done, he shook his head. "So, this is about nothing more than some corrupt cops and a dead man?"

"Senator Bracken's case started out with some crooked cops and a murder." Kate said acidly. She had the feeling that the Department of Justice was going to find some way to stonewall them. She had experience with that.

Cruz-Reynoso ignored her comment. "I'll discuss this with DC and get back to you." He took a file from his desk and started reading in, indicating he was done with them.

"This is an active case." Gates said, barely controlling her anger.

"There are many active cases." He replied, not looking up from his file.

Still angry, Kate led her team out of the building, followed by Gates and Bergdahl.

"Castle!" Bergdahl barked once they were outside. "Are you sure you didn't say anything to the mayor about this?"

"Positive. And as Cruz-Reynoso said, there are plenty of people at One PP who'd be happy to keep the mayor in the loop."

"Castle." Kate said softly. "You might want to share your idea about Mr. McCarty with everyone else."

Everyone looked at Castle expectantly, so he had no option but to tell them that there was a possibility that McCarty wasn't an innocent bystander in all of this, but a participant.

Bergdahl cursed under her breath. "I hate to say it, but that's a possibility that we hadn't considered before." Bergdahl stared at her feet for a few seconds, then spoke. "I'll talk to some people and see if I can get a handle on his feelings for the police. Maybe he only went to the academy because his family insisted. And, I have some friends who won't run to the US Attorney with everything. I'll see if any of them know anything about McCarty. If he has five million plus dollars, he might have made a splash somewhere and then needed more money."

"Or he might be smart." Castle said.

He got the expected glare from Bergdahl.

In spite of that, he went on. "Five million dollars will make a down payment on fifty million dollars' worth of commercial property. He can use the extra half million to live off of until his investments start to pay off. I mean, he could be a big property tycoon in Brazil by now."

Kate shook her head. "If the US Attorney has a handle on him. I'm sure he's in the US."

Bergdahl gave everyone her patented glare. "Get back to your precinct and get to work. I have a feeling that the DOJ isn't going to be a big help to us."

Once in the car, Castle spoke to Kate. "I have another idea that you'll probably like."

"If it involves a bottle of wine and a long, relaxing bath for two, I'll love it."

"Actually, that was my second idea. This one you'll only like."

"I'm holding out for the wine and bath, Writer Boy."

"Which you'll get. And maybe even a little something else."

"Not a big something else?" Kate said suggestively.

"Detective Beckett!" Castle said, faking shock. "I'll see what I can do. But, according to our first sweep through the neighborhood, the clerk at the bodega where McCarty was sent isn't there any more. We should go try to find him tomorrow. With armed drug gangs about back then, he wouldn't talk, but maybe now he will."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with your dislike of paper work, would it?" Kate smirked.

"Yes. And it's a good idea as well."

…...

Alexis Castle took the bus back to the loft. It was cheaper than a cab and she enjoyed people watching from the higher bus. The bus had stopped because the road had narrowed to one lane due to some construction. As the bus inched forward, Alexis looked out at a largely Hispanic neighborhood. Suddenly, she saw five familiar looking motorcycle riders turn across traffic and stop in front of a bar. As they took their helmets off, Alexis recognized Vince Peake and his friends. She pulled out her phone and took a several pictures of the bar so that she'd be sure to be able to find it again, also making note of the nearest cross street.

This wasn't the best of neighborhoods, but Alexis had decided that Vince Peake needed help in his life and she was just the person to help him. Even if Peake didn't want help. She remembered that Kate Beckett had never wanted her father's help, or anyone else's help on anything, but that she had changed. Vince would change, too.

She hoped.


	4. Chapter 4

Who Are You?

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Why, no. I don't own Castle, but thanks for asking. Rating: M Time: The future.

 **Chapter Four**

The man behind the counter at the bodega where Henry McCarty had allegedly been sent for ice cream was obviously too young to have been there on the day of the murders.

"He's too young." Castle muttered as they entered.

"Maybe he ditched school that day."

"Is that what Rebel Becks would have done?"

"Even Rebel Becks wouldn't have come anywhere like this neighborhood back then. Rebel Becks did not like the idea of getting shot."

The man behind the counter smiled at them. "May I help you?"

Kate held out her badge. "Detective Beckett, NYPD, homicide. We need to ask a few questions about some murders that took place a while ago."

"Oh! Is this about the guy who they found a couple of days ago?"

"Among other things, Mr. …?"

"Pena. Chuck Pena."

"Mr. Pena, I assume you weren't here in 2001."

Pena laughed. "No. Dad wouldn't let me come to the store in those days. Too many bad things going on."

"Your father is Oswaldo Pena?" Kate asked.

"No. Dad is Alfonso Pena. Uncle Ozzy is his brother. Dad and his three brothers own this bodega. Me and one brother and a cousin run it now."

"Do you remember anything about the day three policemen were shot back in 2001?" Castle asked.

Pena thought for a second. "You know, dad and my uncles talked about so many shootings and bad shit down here back then, I'm not sure. I remember hearing about shootings from the family, but after a while they all kind of blur together. I don't really remember hearing anyone say anything about that shooting, although I bet the adults did talk about it."

"According to our reports, Oswaldo Pena was working here when the three policemen were shot. Can you tell us where he is? We'd like to talk to him."

"Sure. He's retired and lives in Brooklyn. I can give you his address and phone number."

The Pena house in Brooklyn was an older but well maintained home on a street with similar nice, older homes. Kate rang the doorbell.

And elderly Hispanic man in sweat pants and a NY Jets tee shirt answered the door. "You must be the two cops. Carlos called and said you were coming. Come in. Come in."

Pena offered them coffee, which they accepted. They found themselves sitting on the sofa in the living room, facing Mr. Pena who sat in a comfortable arm chair.

"Mr. Pena, "Kate began, "we found a body of a man long dead in the same building where three policemen were shot back in 2001."

Pena nodded. "Yeah. Carlos told me about it when he called just now."

"The deceased was a Napoleon Bonaparte Moncrief. Do you remember him at all?"

Pena slowly shook his head. "No, not at all. But I made an effort back in the day not to see anything. Too dangerous."

Kate handed him a DMV photo of Moncrief. "Do you recognize him?"

This time Pena nodded. "Yeah, I saw him around. But there were dozens, hundreds, of guys like him. One day they're bums hanging around on the street corner, then the next day they have flashy clothes, a flashy car, a flashy girlfriend and a roll of money. Then they're dead or in jail. There's nothing about him that sticks out."

Both Rick and Kate frowned. "Do you remember a policeman coming into the bodega to buy an ice cream sandwich when the three policemen were murdered? At the time of the investigation, you said you couldn't remember anything."

Pena looked at the floor and blushed. "Yeah. I know what I said. You gotta understand. Back then, it was worth your life to talk to a cop about anything. Old man Obregon bitched about some drug dealers harassing his customers outside his store and two days later some punk walks in and shoots him in the face. He lived, but that tells you what the neighborhood was like then."

"We understand." Kate said as sympathetically as she could. "Can you tell us now what happened?"

Pena shrugged. "I remember he came in that day. Wasn't there too long and then he left."

"About what time?"

Pena stared at the ceiling. "I really don't know. It's been a long time, you know. I know he was there at the bodega. When? That's anyone's guess. I just can't remember."

"Was it before or after the shooting?" Castle asked.

Pena shrugged again. "I don't know."

They asked Pena if there was anyone else who might have been at the bodega that day who might remember, but Pena could think of no one.

Once back in the car and headed back to Manhattan, Castle stroked Kate's cheek lightly. "I told you. No one remembers anything."

"Do you think he was telling us the truth?" Kate asked.

"Yeah. There's no one around any more to scare him, but it's been a while and if he tried to remember nothing at the time, there's little chance he'll remember anything now."

….

"Alexis Castle!" The slender blonde woman said, rising from her desk at Marlowe Prep. "What brings you back to school?"

Alexis smiled at the woman. "Hi, Mrs. O'Mara. I ran into a classmate of mine, but he had to take off before I could get his number. I'm trying to locate him again. And since you're involved with the Marlowe alumni association, I thought of you."

"Dear me, Alexis. You aren't thinking of having a re-union so soon are you? Why, you're probably not out of college yet. Or are you?"

Alexis shook her head. "I'm at Columbia still, in pre-med. But I'm just trying to find a classmate with whom I've lost touch, Vincent Peake?"

Mrs. O'Mara nodded slowly. "Oh, yes. Young Mr. Peake. His older sister was such a good student. Vincent could have done much better if he'd applied himself. But…"

"I heard he got into Rutgers." Alexis broke in.

"He did. We got a notice from his family just before graduation, but he never attended. Let me see…" Mrs. O'Mara stared into space. "It seems that I heard that there was some trouble with the family right after he graduated. However, I don't recall ever hearing any more about it. I do hope he managed to go to college somewhere. He was a pleasant young man. He always was polite to me. How did he appear to be when you met him, Alexis?"

Alexis remembered Vince and his biker friends and decided to be polite. "He looked happy, and he seemed to be in good spirits. He's in good physical shape, too." _Which I hope is not from beating rival gang members up or running from the police._ She thought to herself.

"Well, if you do run into him, please ask him to fill out a membership form for the alumni association. We do like to keep in touch with all of our Marlowe family."

As Alexis left the school, she wondered how Vince would fit in at the next class re-union.

…...

Castle and Beckett got back to the precinct just after lunch. Ryan and Esposito were happy to see them.

"Have a nice trip to Brooklyn? I hope you weren't bored while we were here reading the exciting police reports." Espo asked, sarcastically.

"The witness was a bust." Castle replied. "He didn't remember much from that day other than that McCarty was in his bodega sometime that day, but whether it was before, during or after the shooting he can't remember."

"Well, pull up a file and get to reading." Ryan said.

"We did get something accomplished." Castle said, smiling at his friends.

"What?" Espo asked, suspiciously.

"While I was treating my lovely wife to lunch at Le Cirque, the crab cocktail is to die for, by the way, we decided to go to the Bahamas for our next weekend off. Miami is just getting too _déclassé_."

"Jenny and I wouldn't be caught dead in Miami." Ryan said, nodding seriously. "And do you have any idea how much they charge to park a yacht?"

"As a matter of fact I do." Castle shot back.

"We don't." Espo said, pointing to himself and Ryan. "So can you quit rubbing it in?"

"Sorry, guys." Kate said softly. "Sometimes being the wife of the wealthy Richard Castle can be such a problem.

"Don't worry about it, Beckett. We're just teasing each other." Espo said, giving her a smile.

Just then, Captain Gates stuck her head out of her office. "News, people. The US Attorney's Office wants to see us this afternoon. We have an hour or so before they'll see us. Anything new on the case?"

Beckett advised Gates that the trip to try to confirm McCarty's presence at the Bodega had been a bust and Ryan and Esposito said they had found nothing in all the police reports that might help.

Gates nodded, then frowned. "Keep at it."

Castle saw the reason for Gates' frown exiting the elevator. "Bergdahl." He whispered.

Lieutenant Bergdahl strode down the hallway in the bullpen, showering anger and disdain in her wake. She walked into Gates' office and closed the door. The ensuing conversation seemed to be entirely one way, Bergdahl to Gates, and to be as unpleasant as the team had come to expect conversations with the IA lieutenant to be.

"Have I mentioned lately how warm and cuddly I've found Captain Gates to be?" Castle asked Kate in a whisper.

"No." Kate replied. "Not at all."

"That's because I'll never lie to you. But I am thankful we got Gates for the precinct captain and not Bergdahl. Can you imagine working for her?"

"That's not imagination, bro. That's a nightmare."

As Bergdahl stomped out of Gates' office, glared at all and sundry, then headed for the elevator. Gates was sitting in her office chair, staring straight ahead.

"Do you think Bergdahl turned Gates to stone?" Castle asked, _sotto voce_. "I've heard witches can do that."

"I heard that Mr. Castle." Gates replied.

"Sorry." Castle said, quickly grabbing a file and starting to read it.

When he looked up, Gates was standing next to him. "I'm very much afraid you're a disaster for the whole NYPD, Mr. Castle. Detective Beckett's team is a collection of losers and fools and I am the most incompetent precinct captain in the entire history of police work. At least, that's Lieutenant Bergdahl's opinion." Gates looked over the homicide squad. "Please solve this case so that I can shove it down…" She stopped and shook her head. "So we can proceed."

A chorus of "Yes, sirs." followed.

"We should leave for the US Attorney's now, I think." Gates said, returning to her office to gather her things.

As the team got into the elevator, Castle looked around to make sure that Gates couldn't hear him. "If Bergdahl jaywalks near the US Attorney's, I really can imagine someone running her over, "accidently."

Kate grinned at him. "Control your imagination."

"How can I when you're standing right next to me?" He said, waggling his eyebrows.

Both Ryan and Esposito coughed loudly.

"Imagination controlled." Castle muttered.

…...

Alexis Castle decided that afternoon would be a good time to visit the bar she had seen Vince Peake and his friends go into. She stood in front of the bar and looked up at the neon sign: _Los Guerreros_. The warriors. She peeked in the door and found the bar was busier than she had imagined. However, there were couples dancing in the back and everything seemed peaceful. She went inside.

She had taken perhaps a dozen steps inside before anyone noticed her. A young man smiled at her and spoke to her in Spanish. She smiled back, but said nothing. She had decided that talking to a bartender would be the best way to find Vince or his friends.

Another two men suddenly stood in front of her. One licked his lips and said something in Spanish. Alexis tried to move past the two, but they moved in front of her.

"I'm looking for a friend of mine, Vince Peake?" She said. "Or his friends, Tuco, Flaco, Cowboy and J Boy? They ride motorcycles and I've seen them coming in here."

A ripple of laughter went around the bar. Alexis noticed that the dancers in the back were studiously ignoring what was happening in the front of the bar.

Alexis tried to step back, but found her way locked by a solid wall of young, and not so young, men. "Excuse me." She said as forcefully as she could.

She felt a hand sliding over her ass and then another squeezing her ass. She slapped at the hands, but they stayed where they were. Another hand grabbed one of her boobs and someone was trying to slide a hand under her blouse.

"Stop that!" She said, her voice starting to quaver. "I'm leaving." However, she was surrounded and couldn't move.

She heard someone screaming in Spanish coming toward her. The crowd parted and Alexis saw a huge woman waving baseball bat around and shoving the men away. Before Alexis could say anything, a young Hispanic woman wearing a skin tight dress that showed plenty of cleavage and was so short that she couldn't possibly bend over without showing her panties, assuming she had any on. She grabbed Alexis by the arm and forcefully dragged her to the door as the other woman and the men screamed at each other.

When they reached the street, the girl released Alexis' arm. "Don' come back." She said in thickly accented English.

"Thank you, but I'm trying to find…"

"Go. You and men…Police come. Trouble. Go."

"I'm trying to find a friend, amigo, Vince Peake, Tuco, Flaco, Cowboy and J Boy. Have you seen them?"

The girl spat. "Vincente?" She spat again.

"Yes. Vincent." Alexis said.

The girl nodded. "Kaibiles." She spat again.

"Kay Bills?" Alexis tried.

The girl made a pistol with her hand and said, "Bam." Then she turned and walked back into the bar.

Alexis stood on the street, suddenly finding herself in a neighborhood that was a good deal tougher than she was used to. She noticed men on the street starting to look at her. One took out his wallet and waved some money at her. She headed for the nearest subway, which was many blocks away.

"Alexis Castle?" A voice called to her.

She whirled around and saw a policewoman standing there. "Yes. I know you. You're…"

"Ann Hastings. I know your dad and his wife. What are you doing here?"

Alexis blushed. "Looking for a friend."

"Here?" Ann asked, disbelieving.

"It's a long story."

"Let's get back to my cruiser. I can take you back to the 12th Precinct."

…

Cruz-Reynoso didn't stand this time when the NYPD team entered his office. He slapped a file down on his desk and frowned. "It seems that giving you access to McCarty is seen as a bad idea by everyone but our politicians. Senator Bollinger was particularly interested in your having access to him, Detective Castle."

Kate decided this was not the time to explain that she used her maiden name while on duty.

Cruz-Reynoso continued. "We did get a few concessions, however. Mr. McCarty will be known as Michael Johnson. You can call him Mick. He'll have civilian ID under that name from New Mexico. He'll also have a Federal concealed carry permit for his weapon. If anyone asks, tell them he's a Fed working undercover. That's all that you'll need to know and all you'll get. Lastly, keep him in the background as much as possible and for God's sake, keep him away from the media. Understood?"

Everyone mumbled something affirmative.

Cruz-Reynoso looked straight at Captain Gates. "Is that understood, Captain Gates?"

"Yes, sir." Gates shot back.

"Mr. Johnson is in the next room. Go and meet him." Cruz-Reynoso nodded to a door at the back of his office. The detectives went through it.

Kate had seen photos of McCarty, but almost didn't recognize him. His records showed he was 6' 1" and 180 pounds. The height was right, but McCarty, or Johnson, as he was now known was a good forty pounds heavier. It all looked to be solid muscle. In his NYPD records McCarty had been clean shaven and had short hair. Johnson had a full beard and his hair hung over his ears and over his jacket collar. His eyes couldn't be seen due to dark aviator sunglasses.

He was slouched in a chair with his feet on a desk, his legs crossed at his ankles, showing cowboy boots and his jeans pulled over the boot tops. He wore a dark blue tee shirt under a brown leather jacket that came over his hips. A holster with a large caliber handgun in it was visible at his waist.

"Mr. Johnson?" Gates said, holding out her hand.

Johnson stood. "Let's get the hell out of here." He ignored the Captain's outstretched hand

"We're glad you could help us with the case." Gates tried again.

Johnson turned and faced the captain. "You have got to be kidding me. The only reason I'm back here in New York is because the NYPD was far more interested in proving I was a coward than in finding who killed those three cops. Now that I find they were probably dirty, I can see why that happened."

Gates opened her mouth to defend the NYPD, but Johnson kept speaking. "I lost my wife, my family, my friends and my career because of the NYPD and now I've been dragged away from a job that is very important to me to go chasing after some long gone killers. I spent a couple of years thinking about the events back in 2001. I went over everything I did and heard and saw hundreds of times and I came up with nothing. I really can't see that something is suddenly going to pop into my mind after all of these years to solve your case. So let's consider my working with you as what it is. A public relations job for the NYPD to make them look good while nothing happens. I'm here because I was ordered here and I can't imagine that I'll accomplish one damned thing." Johnson headed for the door.

Kate put her hand out to stop him. "I'm Detective Kate Beckett. My homicide team will be investigating these four murders. I am not here for a public relations job and I expect to do everything that I can to solve all four of the murders. And I expect you to help as best as you can. You're a Fed so I expect you to treat this as an important murder case and not as a waste of your time. Do you understand me?"

Johnson stared at Kate for a full minute. "So, you're an optimist."

"I'm a good cop." She snapped back at him. "And so are my people."

"Including him?" Johnson asked, pointing at Castle.

"Very much including him." Espo and Ryan said together.

"It must be catching." Castle said with a grin.

"We should go back to the precinct." Gates said. This was the first time that anyone noticed that Bergdahl had already left.

"I can't wait." Johnson said snottily.

Back at the precinct, Rick and Kate had a surprise. Officer Ann Hastings called and advised them that she had a dangerous, red-headed college student who needed to be transported to confinement in Tribeca. It took them a second to catch on to who she meant.

Kate checked her watch. "It's about time to go home. We'll see you tomorrow."

"Wait one." Espo said. "I've got something. The first patrol car to arrive on the scene of the murders was from the Five Four. A couple of uniforms were trying to chase down a witness for some detectives. Senior man was Sergeant Peter D'Angelo, who retired on '03 and died of a heart attack five years later. His partner was one Thomas Demming. Demming was apparently the first person to see McCarty. It'd be interesting to see what Demming remembers."

Kate glanced at Rick and made a decision. "Call him up here tomorrow. You and Ryan do the interview. Castle and I will observe. And Mr. Johnson, of course."

"We need to go see what Alexis was up to." Castle whispered in Kate's ear as they headed for the elevator.


	5. Chapter 5

Who Are You?

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Right. Like I own Castle. Rating: M. Time: Season seven.

 **Chapter Five**

Kate and Rick rode down to the Patrol Division squad room in silence. Neither of them knew quite what to expect. They found Alexis sitting calmly with Ann Hastings, drinking a cup of coffee. When she saw them, however, Alexis blushed and looked away.

"What happened?" Castle asked. When Alexis didn't answer he looked to Hastings.

"I saw her getting dragged out of _Los Guerreros_ , it's a biker bar, mostly for Hispanics, over on…"

"I know what it is." Kate interrupted. "I've been there as a uniform and I know some bikers who were dumb enough to go in there because they thought they were bad ass bikers." She turned to Alexis. "Alexis, why did you…" Kate stopped, realizing that she wasn't Alexis' parent. She looked over to Rick.

"Alexis, why did you go there?" Castle asked.

"I was looking for Vince Peake." Alexis explained that she had seen Peake and his friends going in to the bar while on a bus and had decided to go look for him.

"What happened when you got there?" Castle asked, starting to get angry, both at Alexis, this Peake kid and the bar.

Alexis started to cry as she described her ordeal. By the time she was done, Castle was ready to invade _Los Guerreros_.

Kate put her hand on Rick's arm. "You're very lucky, Alexis. Something very serious could have happened to you. Something fatal."

Alexis nodded. "I know that now."

"Who is this Peake? I don't remember you ever mentioning him. Was he a close friend?" Castle asked.

Alexis shook her head. "He was a friend, but we really didn't run in the same circles. He wasn't the over achiever type. More of the under achiever. But he was a friend, and I want to help him. I just can't believe that he's a…Kay bill, or whatever they called him."

"Some gang name?" Kate asked Hastings.

She shrugged. "Not that I know. I have a friend in the Gang Task Force. I can ask him."

"It's not Slaughter, is it?" Castle said, with a grimace.

Hastings returned the grimace. "God, no. I'll see if I can get anything."

Castle thanked her. "I think it's time for us all to go home."

They drove back to the loft in silence. When they got home, Castle began to criticize Alexis for her foolish behavior, but Kate softly touched his arm and gave a barely noticeable shake of her head.

"I think we should all get ready for dinner and then an early bedtime ." Rick said.

Alexis turned and went to her room, happy she was home.

Once in bed, Rick pulled Kate to him. "How bad is this place?"

" _Los Guerreros_?" She said quietly, not wanting to upset Rick. "It means warriors in Spanish. I went there with Royce when I was a uniform. You can get just about any kind of drug you'd want there, and just about any kind of weapon, and hire people who can use the weapons. I think we can forget the idea that Peake and his friends are just high spirited young men out for a good time. If they walked in there and got out in one piece, they're bad people." Kate felt Rick stiffen. She went on. "That said, they're low level gang bangers. Street thugs. Maybe if this Peake isn't in too deep, he can be saved."

"Assuming he wants to be saved. "Rick said morosely.

"Alexis is stubborn. She won't give this up easily."

Rick sighed. "Where does she get that from?" He said, sounding honestly perplexed.

"Maybe it's genetic?" Kate said, as seriously as she could manage.

Rick made no reply, but tried his own eye roll.

"I'll talk to Alexis in the morning. Maybe I can figure out some way to get in touch with this kid without having to call out a SWAT team."

"You are a good mother, Kate."

Kate felt a sudden thrill go through her. _A mother_?

The next morning Kate did talk to Alexis and had her transfer the photos she had taken with her phone to Kate's phone.

As soon as they got to work, Kate went to see Tori Ellis, the 12th's tech expert.

"Tori, could you do me a favor? Something that has nothing to do with police work?"

Tori nodded. "You want me to get those nude photos of you and Rick off the Internet?"

"What?" Kate was about to have a very serious and very private talk with Rick when she saw Tori smiling.

"Gotcha."

Kate gave Tori her very best glare, which just seemed to make her laugh. "What do you need, Kate?"

Kate showed her the photos of the bikers and told Tori about Alexis and her friend. "If you can get a shot of the license plates, I know the angle is bad and the light isn't he best, but maybe I can track them down."

Tori nodded, "I'll see what I can do."

While Kate was talking to Ellis, Esposito was looking at McCarty, now Johnson, who was reading a police file with a bored air.

"What kind of a weapon do you carry, bro. It's too big to be a 9mm, I think."

"Are you trying to be my pal?" Johnson asked sarcastically. "It won't work."

Esposito shoved his anger down. _I need to work with this asshole._ "No. I need to know what kind of weapon you have. NYPD uses 9mm Glocks. The sound they make is easy for a trained cop to make out. If I know what you shoot, I'll know where you are if we ever get into a gun fight. Plus, knowing about your piece will help me figure out how good a cop you are."

Johnson looked at Espo for a few seconds, then drew his weapon from his holster. He removed the magazine and pulled the slide back, ejecting the cartridge in the chamber onto the desk. He handed Espo his weapon, butt first. "Knock yourself out." "Then he added sarcastically, "Bro."

Espo professionally examined the weapon. "M 1911A1 Colt .45." He said, smiling. "You're old school."

Johnson just raised one eyebrow.

"But, it's been extensively modified.' Espo went on. "Custom grips, a lighter trigger, ambidextrous magazine release and safety, and a Picatinny rail with a laser sight under the slide."Espo picked up the magazine. "And you use the 10 round magazine, rather than the issue 7 round mags." He nodded appreciatively. "Nice weapon. Where did you get it?"

"I know a gunsmith." Johnson said, giving as little information as he could.

Espo handed the weapon back and both men went back to reading files.

Ryan walked up to Espo. "I just talked to Robbery. Demming was out until 2 AM on a stakeout. He won't be in until after lunch."

Just before noon, Kate checked her watch. "We should go to lunch early so we don't make Demming wait. Remy's?"

Everyone nodded. She looked at Johnson. "You in for lunch, Mick?"

Johnson stared at her from behind his sunglasses. "Remy's is a cop place, right?"

Kate nodded. "Yes."

"And I don't want my cover blown. If I start hanging around cop bars and cop donut shops and cop restaurants, I could get my cover blown. I still have some cop relatives, you know. They just might recognize me even after all these years. Luckily, in my last year with the NYPD, I learned of a lot of places that cops don't go. I'd actually prefer that." Johnson got up and headed for the elevator without looking back.

"Charming son of a bitch, isn't he?" Ryan said.

"He's got his reasons, Ryan." Kate said. "He didn't exactly get a fair shake out of the NYPD. They decided he was guilty until proven innocent. And now that he's been proven innocent, it's too damned late." She stood up and grabbed her coat. "Everyone ready?"

They were seated at Remy's and were waiting for their order when Espo decided he should tell them what he'd found out about Johnson by examining his weapon. "I got a look at Johnson's weapon this morning. He's packing a heavily modified .45 Colt automatic."

"The military's old M 1911?" Castle asked.

"Yeah. Most police departments won't let their officers carry such a powerful weapon. It'd be too easy for a round to go through a perp, through a wall and into someone half a block away."

"According to his ID he's from New Mexico." Kate said. "There's a lot of wide open country out there. It's not as crowded as Manhattan."

"Yeah." Castle added. "A lot of western rural cops carry .44 Magnums, with eight inch barrels. Real Dirty Harry weapons." Castle narrowed his eyes. "Feeling lucky, punk?" He snarled.

"Eastwood does it better." Espo said. "But I'm serious about Johnson. I got a look at the ammo he has in his weapon. He had a Teflon coated round in the chamber when he unloaded it for me."

"A cop killer round?" Castle asked.

"Yeah. It'll go right through a Kevlar vest like it's nothing. It'll even penetrate some protective plates. And, he had hollow point ammo in his magazine. It looked like he alternated the Teflon rounds with the hollow points. I don't know of any law enforcement agency that allows the use of hollow points."

"Lots of Mexican drug gangs use body armor." Castle said. "And there are cops that carry hollow points, no matter what the rules are."

"If he's undercover, he's going to have to look like he's not a cop, Espo." Kate added.

"One more thing." Javier added. "The barrel of his weapon was threaded. There's only one reason to do that."

"A suppressor?" Kate said, frowning.

"A silencer." Castle said at the same time as Kate.

"Silencers don't really silence, bro. They're not like they sound on TV. They just make the sound of a shot a lot less noticeable. And cops don't carry suppressed weapons."

"Stack, the Fed who recruited me for the Attorney General, carried a suppressed piece."

"Yeah, and he was some sort of a national security, the secretary will disallow all knowledge, type." Castle said, not liking where this was going. "So he could be some sort of a government hitman."

Kate shook her head. "The government doesn't do that. At least not in the US."

"Or so they tell us." Castle muttered under his breath.

"Or this guy could be some sort of CI. A cop who got run off the force for no reason. He could have gone rogue, gotten caught and turned by some federal agency. Now he's trying to stay alive while undercover, hoping to live long enough to make witsec." Espo looked around the table at his friends. "All I'm saying is let's keep an eye on this guy. He may not be what we think he is."

"Or worse, maybe he is." Ryan added.

Kate shook her head. "We're just overthinking this right now. We have no idea what he's been doing since he resigned from the force." She looked over at her husband who was about to say something. "And if we try to find out, that'll tip the feds and we'll be in trouble."

"But I know some people."

Kate shook her head at Castle. "We'll treat him just like anyone else who's suddenly working with us. We'll be friendly and professional, and keep an eye on his to see what his strengths and weaknesses are. Okay?"

Everyone nodded, but Espo added. "He's not the friendliest guy I ever met.

When they got back to homicide, Ryan's phone was ringing. "That was Robbery. Demming is in and he'll be coming up to see us in five."

Kate nodded. "Castle and I will be in observation. Johnson, you'll be with us. Okay?"

Johnson nodded, but said nothing. He headed for observation. Ryan and Esposito headed for Interrogation One. Ryan stood outside to wait for Demming, who arrived soon after.

He sat across from the two homicide detectives. "I thought Beckett usually handled the interrogations."

Ryan smiled. "You don't think we can handle a simple interrogation?"

Demming smiled back, "Sure, but I hope Beckett doesn't think I hold a grudge or anything. No guy likes being dumped, but that was a long time ago. And we've both moved on. She's married and I'm engaged."

"Engaged?" Espo said. "I hadn't heard. Who, if I can ask."

"Carolyn Moore. Used to work in Vice in the 54th. We started dating after I moved over here, and now that we're engaged, she transferred to be with me. Actually, we kind of owe Beckett and Castle. When they got to stay partners even though they were together, it kind of set a precedent for everyone else."

"We'll let her know."

Demming laughed. "I'm sure she already knows. Hi, Beckett. Hi, Castle." He waved at the one way glass across from him.

On the other side, Castle put his arm firmly around Kate's waist.

Kate whispered in his ear. "You have nothing to worry about. To tell the truth, you never did."

Espo opened a notebook. "So, let's get to this."

"Yeah. The first time you guys went after me you thought I was dirty. You thinking that again?"

Ryan and Esposito stared at Demming. "Why would we thing you're dirty, bro?"

"You've got IA and a scruffy looking Fed hanging around. What am I supposed to think?"

"What do you think?" Ryan asked.

"Bergdahl has been coming in and out of here the last couple of days, spreading her usual Internal Affairs good cheer. I'm pretty sure she didn't drop by to exchange recipes with Gates. As for the Fed, when he showed up here this morning, the desk sergeant noticed he was strapped. Asked for his badge. He told Kowalski to call Gates. Gates said he was a Fed and to let him in anytime. Now, a Fed with a weapon and no badge, looking all scruffy, that means undercover. Add that to Bergdahl, and what do you get?"

"Fair enough." Ryan said. "We found a long dead corpse a couple of days ago. He was hidden in the same building where three cops were gunned down back in 2001. You remember that one?"

Demming nodded, seriously. "You bet. But why is IA interested?"

"Ask Bergdahl." Ryan shot back. "You'll find that she's as big a goldmine of information as any IA. We just do what we're told."

"Do you think there's a connection between the dead guy and the dead cops?"

Ryan shrugged. "We don't know. What with how bad the dead guy is decomposed, he could have been dead for six months, or a year before the cop shootings. Or he could have been alive for that long after. We're just looking into all four killings to see if we can find anything."

Demming nodded. "Makes sense. What do you need from me?"

"Tell us everything about what happened the day the cops got killed. Don't leave anything out. Anything."

"Hey! I am a detective, you know."

Espo smiled. "We just have to make sure. Seeing who's involved."

"Okay. My partner and I were trying to track down a Russian fence named… Oblansky, I think. It ought to be in my report. We heard the call that there were officers down."

"Who made the call?" Espo asked.

"McCarty. He was the only person there. We were no more than a block away and got there in under a minute. There were two cruisers outside, no one in them and no one on the streets. People knew to get out of the way when gunfire started."

"Wait. McCarty wasn't in the car? Are you sure he made the radio call?"

"Yeah. He told me he'd called when he came out of the building."

"So McCarty was inside the building when you got there."

"Yeah. He said he'd run all the way there when he heard the gunfire."

"Ran from where?"

Demming shrugged. "He didn't say. I didn't ask. All three of us went back in. We checked the bodies although McCarty said he'd already checked and they were dead. He was right. Then we swept the building trying to find the shooters. We were on maybe the second or third floor when other officers arrived. Sergeant Castries yelled to us to go help set up a perimeter and that there was a SWAT team on the way and they'd clear the building."

"You went outside?" Ryan asked.

"Yeah. Me and a half a dozen other cops covered the back while SWAT went from room to room. Nobody found anything."

"What happened then?"

"Lieutenant Douglas had arrived by then, Captain Montgomery was out sick that day, I think, so he was in charge. There was a whole lot of police brass there by then. But Douglas was in charge. He set up a grid and sent us off to see if we could find any witnesses. We didn't. No one spoke English, no one saw anything, no one heard anything, no one knew anything. It was a complete bust."

"Did you see McCarty after you three left the building?"

Demming shook his head. "No. Someone else, maybe Douglas, grabbed him to interrogate on what had gone down. I didn't see him ever again, I don't think."

"Do you think McCarty ran away?" Espo asked.

Demming shrugged. "That always struck me as funny that everyone thought he was a coward. He couldn't know before-hand that there was an ambush, so he'd have gone in. And once inside the lobby, it'd be damned hard to outrun a bullet. But, maybe someone knew something I didn't." Demming looked over at Espo and Ryan seriously. "You think there's more to McCarty than meets the eye?"

Espo shrugged. "Who knows?"

When Demming had gone, Kate turned to Johnson. "Anything sound wrong? Did he miss anything or add anything?"

Johnson shook his head slowly. "No, but we have a problem, maybe."

"What?"

"My ex-wife's maiden name was Carolyn Moore. She was from a cop family. She wasn't a cop when we were married, but her dad always wanted her to join the force. Have any idea what she looks like?"

Kate thought for a second. "I can only remember seeing her from the back. I'll get a photo of her."

Kate came back a few minutes later with a photo of Carolyn Moore. Johnson nodded. "That's my ex-wife all right. We knew each other from grade school. One of the few people in New York who can identify me by sight, even after all these years, works just a few stories down. I could get my cover blown at any time. I knew this was a bad idea."

Kate and Rick went to see Gates at once. Gates called Bergdahl, who finally decided that Johnson would just have to stay out of the way of his ex. Johnson nodded unhappily. "Yeah. That'll work just fine. Maybe I should just hide in the men's room?" He said sarcastically.

As Kate walked out of Gates' office, she saw Ellis motioning to her. "I have some good news and maybe some bad news, Beckett."

"And the good news is?"

"I got two license plates from the photos Alexis took. I found the owner. They're rentals from a Harley dealership on the Lower East Side. And the dealer has a GPS tracking system on all of their rentals, just in case."

"And the bad news is they won't tell us anything without a warrant?" Kate guessed.

"You got it." But, Ellis undid the top two buttons on her blouse. "He kind of sounded cute over the phone. It won't hurt for me to drop by the Harley dealership and ask around, will it?"

Kate shook her head. "You don't have to do this, Tori."

Tori smiled. "Like I said, he sounded cute. And I've always liked riding behind a guy on a motorcycle."

Later, as Rick and Kate were getting ready to leave for the night, Ryan called out to them. "I just got a call from CSU. They were running the photos we found at the crime scene through the facial recognition data banks hoping to identify the hookers who were with the cops. They got a number of hits, but only at fifty percent accuracy, not really what they're hoping for. But they think they can do better. They said they'd call first thing in the morning. I said that was okay."

"Photos of hookers in the morning?" Kate said, smiling at Rick. "How could we not like that?"

"I know something I'd rather be doing in the morning." Rick said softly.

Kate smiled. "Who knows? Maybe we can multi-task."


	6. Chapter 6

Who Are You?

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Here is more of the Castle I do not own. Rating: M Time: The future.

 **Chapter Six**

Rick and Kate got home to find that both Martha and Alexis were gone for the evening. Rick made them dinner, then they snuggled on the couch watching a horror movie until bed time.

"I can see why you like that one." Kate teased.

"Hey! I like cheesy, low budget horror movies. Do I complain, um, do I complain much, about our Nebula Nine marathons?"

Kate leaned in and kissed him softly. "You're very polite about my Nebula Nine obsession. But I'm sure you bought this one because the actresses spend almost the whole movie in their underwear or less."

"You never saw Greta, the nurse, in just her underwear, or less." Rick defended the movie stoutly.

"No, she just wore her panties and a skin tight tee shirt which got soaking wet in every scene. However did she manage to fall in the moat at the castle? I mean she had to run towards the monster to get to the moat."

"I'm sure the director thought it was very allegorical. I suspect there may have been an _homage_ to Kurosawa there."

Kate laughed. "You're going with that?"

"Of course. There's only one woman whose boobs I'm fascinated with." He kissed her and slid his hand over one boob.

"And who is that?" She teased.

"I'll show you." He slid one arm under her knees, and the other behind her shoulders and lifted her off the couch and carried her into the bedroom. She raised her arms and he took off her sweater, followed by her bra. They both laid down. Rick kissed her on the lips, softly at first, but then with more passion, his tongue entering her mouth, sliding inside and then across her lips, then back in her mouth.

He kissed down her neck to her boobs, working very slowly. Finally, he began running his tongue across the tops of her boobs.

"What are you doing?" She asked with a giggle.

"I'm autographing your boobs with my tongue. I've done R-I-C-K. and now C-…Oops." He began licking one spot on her boob.

"What are you doing now?"

"I made a G instead of a C, so I'm erasing it."

Kate started laughing. Castle kept kissing her. Eventually, he had finished his name and moved over to gently kiss her scar, then moved slowly down her stomach, removing articles of both of their clothes as he went. She spread her legs and he blew gently on her slit, then licked up and down. Finally he settled on her clit, inserting a finger inside her, moving it slowly in and out. Kate arched her back and moaned. "Enough. I need you inside of me. Now."

He nipped her clit with his teeth. "Not yet." He mumbled through her strip of pubic hair.

She grabbed his hair and pulled him up. "Yes, yet!" She moaned.

He lay on top of her for a second, looked into her eyes and said, "I love you, Kate. I always will."

"I love you right now, but if you're not inside of me..."

He slid his erection inside of her and began sliding in and out slowly, gradually increasing the tempo.

Kate put her arms around him and pushed her boobs into his chest, then wrapped her legs around his waist and tried to pull him deeper into her.

He sensed he was about to climax and slowed down.

She moaned, "Don't slow down. I'm close. I'm so close." And she was, and he was. He exploded in her as she raked his back with her finger nails and moaned his name.

Minutes later they lay together in a tangle. "We get to look at pictures of hookers tomorrow." She said, teasingly. "Right up your alley, I suppose."

Rick made no reply.

"Problem, babe?" She asked.

"I patronized prostitutes. When I was young and wild."

"Before you got old and completely out of hand?" She whispered.

"Not so funny. I thought then that being a hooker made sense as a career choice for some women. But I've seen hookers close up, even the ones who work only with high end clients, so called. It's a horrible choice for any woman."

"You sound like you're growing up."

He shuddered dramatically. "Anything but that. Can you help me avoid being a grown up?"

"I'll do the best that I can, lover, but I can't make any promises."

"I'll settle for that."

The next morning when they arrived at the precinct, Ryan was waiting for them with a handful of photos and a smile. "Good news. We think we have one of the women in the photos we found at the crime scene."

The team, including Johnson, gathered around Ryan's desk. "CSU got too many responses on facial recognition. These aren't the best photos and they're pretty old. Chances are that the girls in these photos have changed. Even things like a different hair style can throw off facial recognition software. So, they had a thought. Look for three of the couple of dozen under aged hookers they had as possibles and see if any of them had any connections. They found three that kept getting bailed out by the same pimp, a Carlos Moreno, now deceased. One girl, who has so many aliases we can only make her as Yvette Pretty died of a drug overdose five years ago. Another, Elena Cruz is totally off the grid. No arrests anywhere for about eight years. I'm thinking she got out of the life and is gone."

"There'd better be some good news in here, Ryan." Kate told him.

"There is. Last and certainly not least is Ynez Iturbide. Turns our Vice knows her really well. She runs a home for ex-hookers and girls who are trying to get out of the life. She has a place in the Bronx where they can stay, she has talked doctors into giving the girls free medical care, she knows people who can help with employment and she keeps the pimps away."

Kate nodded. They were finally getting someplace. "Castle and I will go see Iturbide. You and Espo keep interviewing cops who were connected in any way with the three dead cops or were involved in the investigation of their murders."

Ynez Iturbide's house was in a neighborhood that had definitely seen better days, but the house itself was reasonably well kept up. Kate rang the doorbell.

After a minute, a skinny girl with bleached blonde hair, track marks on her arms and a black eye answered the door. "Yes?"

Kate showed her badge. "Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. This is Richard Castle. We need to talk to Ynez Iturbide. Is she in?"

The blonde scowled at her. "Do you have a warrant?"

"No, but I can get a warrant easily enough. However, I think that a friendly conversation would be in everybody's interests."

The girl thought for a second. "Wait here." She walked away, leaving the door open.

Shortly after, a short, rather heavily built Latina came to the door. Kate was just barely able to recognize her as the teenaged girl in the photos. "What do you want?"

"To talk to you about these three men." Kate showed the photos of the dead policemen and the three hookers.

"You sure you want to talk about them? They're cops."

"I want to talk about them. And we knew they were cops. Can we come in?"

Ynez shook her head. "You can, but your partner can't. I don't want a male cop in here."

It was Kate's turn to shake her head. "He comes with me. He's my partner."

Ynez smiled coldly. "He is, is he? Well, tell me, Detective, how many times has your partner ":accidentally" grabbed your boobs or your ass on the job? Tell me."

Kate's smile was warmer. "On the job? Accidentally? Never. He saves that for when we're in bed together at night. Mr. Castle is not a cop, he's a civilian who consults with the NYPD. He's also my husband. I use my maiden name for work. Otherwise, I'm Mrs. Castle."

Ynez stepped out onto the front porch and frisked Castle. "He's not carrying a gun? He consults? What is he really?"

"I'm an author. Mystery novels." Castle said, giving Ynez his most winning smile.

"What have you written?"

"The Derrick Storm novels and the Nikki Heat novels."

Ynez shook her head and frowned. "Never heard ofthem."

Castle was truly shocked. Someone who had never heard of him? "I'll send you over an autographed collection of my books."

Ynez snorted. "And what would I do with them?"

Castle shook his head slightly. "Well, considering what last complete collection of signed Richard Castle novels went for on E-bay, you might sell them. Or you could read them if worse came to worse."

"How much?"

If Rick was upset with how mercenary Ynez was, he didn't let on. "$2650."

"Okay, send them around. And you both can come in."

They walked through the house all the way to Ynez's office in the back, and saw no one. Rick and Kate could hear movement in the rooms around them, but saw no one.

Ynez sat at her desk and Kate took the one rickety chair in the office. Rick stood, smiling.

"Is this you in these photos?" Kate showed Ynez the photos from the crime scene.

Ynez frowned and nodded. "Yes. I was fourteen at the time."

"Do you recognize the men?"

Ynez nodded. "They were cops. All we ever knew was their first names. I've long since forgotten them. I hope they burn in hell."

"Are the white lines on the mirror in the picture drugs? Cocaine? Heroin?"

"Are you stupid?" Ynez shot back.

"No, but all I can testify to honestly from looking at these photos is that they're white lines of something. Anyone looking at the photo would assume the lines were drugs, but it's not proof."

"It was cocaine. The cops brought it. They said they stole it from drug dealers. They made a joke out of it. Said we were getting the best stuff, because they wouldn't take anything but the best from the evidence lockers."

"And you had sex, at age fourteen, with these men?"

Ynez looked like she was going to say something, but thought better of it. "At one time or another, I had sex with all three cops."

"Did you have sex with any other men while they were there? Were there any other people around?"

Ynez shook her head. "No. I never saw anyone but those three."

Rick spoke for the first time. "Did they ever mention anyone else? Like more partners?"

Ynez frowned slightly. "Once, they were pretty stoned, they got in an argument about how they did all the work and took all the risks, and someone else got too much money. One of them was real upset and the others told him to shut up."

"Any idea who the other person was?"

Ynez shook her head.

"Do you have any idea who killed the three cops? Did you hear anything?" Castle asked,

Ynez laughed. "Did I hear anything? Sure. Every dumb ass would be thug said they'd dropped those cops. If even one percent of them had been telling the truth, those cops would have had hundreds of bullet holes in them. Which wouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"Would you be willing to testify to any of this?" Kate asked.

When Ynez started to look unhappy at that prospect, Castle spoke up. "You're trying to save girls from the life. Don't you think that you should show them that you can stand up to the people who have been using them?"

Ynez shrugged and then smiled. "Considering that the cops are dead and the Tonton Macoutes are dead and gone, too, I might as well."

"One last thing." Kate said. "Do you have any idea where Elena Cruz is? She's been off the grid for about eight years."

Ynez looked at the ceiling, gathering her thoughts. "Elena? She hooked up with some fast talking con man. I haven't heard from her for years."

"Did this con man have a name?"

"George? Something like that. It's been a long time."

They thanked Ynez and headed back to the precinct to brief their team that Ynez had said that there was at least one more person involved in the thefts and that evidence, particularly drugs, had been stolen from evidence lockers. Ryan and Esposito were sent to look at the evidence logs from that period.

Tory Ellison approached Rick and Kate, smiling. "The guy at the Harley dealership was cute after all. He just might be worth a second look."

Kate grinned. "Did you get us anything?"

Tory nodded. "He wouldn't tell me anything about the guys who rented the bikes, but he told me that they have GPS on their rentals. He said you might want to drop by a place called the Roll Bar after one o'clock. It's a biker bar on…"

"I've been there." Kate said. "It's not an outlaw biker bar, but caters to upscale bikers. Even cops. Will they be there tomorrow, you think?"

Ellis shrugged. "He told me that they usually go there for some a couple of hours almost every day about lunch time. He didn't guarantee anything."

Kate turned to Rick. "Do you mind if Alexis and I go there?"

"Can I come too?"

Kate shook her head. "Alexis' dad? If anything will make him more macho having you around would do it."

"I guess I am pretty bad ass." Castle said happily. Kate did not contradict him.

Espo and Ryan came back to Kate's desk. "Johnson might want to get into observation. His brother, Sergeant Michael McCarty just called from the Three Two. He wants to come in and talk to us. He didn't say why."

"When is he due in?"

"Any time now."

Johnson headed for the observation room, followed by Rick and Kate.

Sergeant McCarty was a beefy, red faced man, balding in front and wearing a scowl. He sat in Interrogation One and glared at Ryan and Esposito.

"Is there some reason you have to pull this shit on us?" He barked.

Ryan was polite. "What exactly are you talking about, Sergeant?"

"Don't give me that. I've spent the last fourteen years trying to live down my gutless brother's cowardice and now you're dragging it up again? My family isn't dumb. We've heard about the dead body found where my brother ran away. We know that that bitch lieutenant from IA is sniffing around and you have some mysterious undercover Fed hanging around looking like some damned Serpico or something."

"We have an undercover Fed here? How do you know?" Espo asked.

The sergeant glared at them again. "We're not stupid, goddammit! The first day he comes in here the desk sergeant sees he's carrying. He asks for his badge. He doesn't have one, he says, but call up Captain Gates. Gates says he's a Fed and that he can come in any time. A Fed with a piece and no badge? That's Undercover 101, not to mention the damned beard, the long hair and the sunglasses. Word gets around. Gimme a god damned break."

"Any reason you don't want us to continue with the investigation?" Ryan said softly.

"What the hell are you implying?"

"You came in here to talk to us. We're investigating a freshly found old body that might, or might not, have something to do with the three cops that were shot back in the day. What? You want us to ignore the possibility there's a connection?"

"Is there a connection?"

Espo shrugged. "The ME said she can't tell us whether the dead guy we found was killed before, during or after the three dead cops, and that we'll probably never get any kind of definitive time of death. But we have a murder, so we have to investigate. You understand that, right?"

"Christ, you guys. If my useless brother had anything to do with that Haitian's death, do you really have to drag my family's name through the mud again? Haven't we had to put up with enough? The gutless bastard ran away. We haven't heard from his since he resigned and we don't care if we ever do. Chances are, if he was involved, he's got a new name and he's somewhere on the other side of the damned country."

Espo smiled. _You're half right._

Ryan gave Sergeant McCarty his most reassuring smile. "Look, we feel for you and your family. We really do. But you know the drill. We have to investigate a murder. If it makes you feel any better, anyone who hasn't come forward with any information by now, is probably dead, or lost and gone. This investigation may get nowhere, but we are going to investigate. "

"Which means you're going to go around asking questions and bringing up my damned brother and the killings of three cops that he ran away from and now some drug dealers death. Yeah! That's no problem for the family." He ended sarcastically. Sergeant McCarty stood up and walked out of Interrogation One and on out of the precinct.

Ryan and Esposito joined Johnson, Rick and Kate in observation.

Oddly enough, Johnson was smiling. "That's not a bad idea that Sergeant McCarty had, you know?"

"What idea?" Kate asked.

"The idea that Henry McCarty is somehow involved in this. How about these scenarios? McCarty, for whatever reasons, pops the Haitian drug dealer. He hides the body. Maybe he's going to come back to it for the cash, maybe not. It's not important. But when he sees the three cops are going into the same building where he left the dead dealer, he panics and makes some excuse to get away. Since he's found to be a coward, he eventually resigns from the NYPD and disappears."

Johnson nodded to himself. "Or this one. McCarty runs away from the ambush and is the only one to survive. Later, overcome by remorse, feeling he has to do something, he guns down Moncrief and hides the body. Realizing he's screwed up twice, he hangs around long enough so that it doesn't look suspicious, resigns and disappears. "

"Two things." Castle said. "One, you do remember that you're Henry McCarty, right? And more important, why is this a good idea?"

Johnson shook his head. "The secret to being under cover is to never, ever step out of character. I am _not_ Henry McCarty. I'm Michael Johnson. Secondly, we don't want anyone to know that we're investigating three dirty cops who everyone thinks are heroes. If they did have someone in Vice or the police intelligence unit, which they probably did, we don't want those people to figure out that they're being investigated." Johnson laughed. "And it's not like McCarty's reputation could get any worse, is it?"

Kate nodded slowly. "It's a good idea, if that's the way you want to do this."

"Of course it is. I wouldn't have suggested it otherwise." Johnson thought for a moment. "In fact, I know a guy who just might be able to drop a rumor that the coward Henry McCarty is even worse than everyone thought." Johnson laughed, then walked out of observation and to the elevator.

"That is one weird dude." Espo said.

"He's right, though. The only way to survive when you're undercover is to become who you're supposed to be. He's Michael Johnson, just like I was Fenton O'Connell."

"When I went undercover with the Russian mob and that poker game, I _was_ Richard Castle."

Kate grinned. "And you made an excellent Richard Castle. You were exactly like him. Really. I hardly knew which one of you to shoot when I got inside." Kate checked her watch. "I have an appointment with Alexis to go to the Roll Bar to see if we can find her biker friend."

"Want me to go along?" Castle offered, again.

"We'll be okay. I know the place. It'll be okay."


	7. Chapter 7

Who Are You?

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Do you own Castle? I don't. Rating: M Time: The future

 **Chapter Seven**

Kate pulled her Harley up in front of the Roll Bar and carefully scanned the bikes parked outside. None of them were the rentals Vince Peake and his friends rode. Kate had changed into skin tight leather pants, a tight black tee and a black leather, hip length jacket. She removed her helmet and shook her hair out.

Alexis also got off the back of Kate's Harley and took her own, borrowed, helmet off. "I don't see their bikes."

Kate nodded. "It's a quarter to one. They show up between one and two. Then again, maybe they decided to have lunch someplace else." She glanced back at her step-daughter. "Ready?"

"This isn't like the place I went to, is it?" Alexis asked, somewhat unsure.

"I talked to a couple of cops who ride. They say the clientele here runs to stockbrokers and lawyers. In their own way they can be as dangerous as outlaw bikers, but I'll protect you." She grinned at Alexis.

The redhead grinned back. "Kate Beckett against a gang of ruthless stockbrokers? Sounds like an action film."

"I'll let Schwarzenegger do that one." Kate smiled back.

The two walked into the bar. Once inside, they stopped and looked around. The place was jammed with the lunchtime crowd. Peake and his friends, if they were here, could be anyplace in the packed bar.

"It's awfully busy for a bar at lunchtime, isn't it?" Alexis asked.

"The cops I talked to say they have good food here. I think they were right." Kate and Alexis pushed their way through the crowd. Kate suddenly stopped. Someone was squeezing her ass and squeezing it hard. She whirled around ready to throw a punch, but stopped when she saw who it was. "Josh." She said coldly. "Get your damned hand off of me or I'll take it off."

Josh just laughed. "I can remember when you liked that." From his breath, Josh had been drinking.

"And I remember that I'm married now. I suggest you do the same." She slapped his hand away.

That brought a laugh from several men behind Josh. Since they were dressed in surgical scrubs as Josh was, she assumed they were friends of his. "She doesn't seem to be as friendly as you said she was, Josh." One called out, to more laughs.

Josh's face turned red. "Yeah. I heard you finally trapped your millionaire. How'd you manage it? Get knocked up and force him to marry you? Was it his?"

Kate took a step forward and pushed her face into Josh's. "You want to play nasty? Would you like to see how nasty I can be?"

Josh laughed. "Baby, I used to fuck you. Not that you were that good in the sack." Suddenly his eyes lit on Alexis. "I know you. You're the writer's little slut. Maybe you'd like to see what a good time with a real man is like?"

"Josh, I'm warning you."

"Hey! I'm, just talking to the redhead here." He stepped towards Alexis and put his arm around her waist. "There's no law that says I can't talk." He turned back to Alexis. "What about it, Sweetcheeks?"

"Go away." Alexis said shakily.

"Who's going to make me?"

A voice from behind Kate answered. "Who knows? Someone might."

Trying to keep an eye on Josh, Kate turned slightly. From Alexis' description, the five newcomers must be Vince Peake and his friends. All were dressed much the same. Boots, tight jeans, black tees, leather jackets, sunglasses and helmets. Peake stood there. Smiling and shifting his helmet from hand to hand. In a bar full of would be tough guys and faux outlaw bikers, these five men stood out. They were dangerous. Big, muscular, tough and dangerous.

Josh laughed and looked back at his friends. "You, sonny? Don't make me laugh." Josh was probably too drunk to realize he was getting himself into trouble.

Peake shrugged. "I'd rather make you cry. Like a little girl. Like a whiny little bitch. Maybe you could be my bitch. You look like the type. You _want_ to be my bitch, don't you?"

Josh's face turned red again and he stepped towards Peake, throwing an overhand punch at him. Peake batted Josh's fist away with his helmet, stepped forward and drove his fist into Josh's stomach. Josh collapsed, sitting on his butt. Then he vomited all over his front. "You prick!" He managed to gasp.

Josh's friends started to move towards Peake. Kate found herself pushed aside as Peake's four friends got in front of her and Alexis. She heard a metallic click from her right. _Not a gun._ She thought. _Probably a switchblade._ She reached for her badge and tried to push her way between Peake and his friends and Josh and his.

"What the hell is going on here?" Bellowed a voice. The newcomer was no more than six feet tall, but massively built, with arms like tree trunks. His long grey hair was in a pigtail and his tee shirt proclaimed him to have been with the First Cavalry Division in Vietnam. "What's the beef here, damn it! Tell me!"

Josh pointed up to Peake. "He hit me! She's a cop! She should arrest him." Josh tried to get up, but slipped in his own vomit and fell back on his ass. By this time everyone was watching and everyone laughed.

The bartender, or whoever he was, turned to the back bar. "Sissy! Check the damned security cameras. Check 'em all."

Sissy turned out to be tall and willowy, dressed in hooker heels, painted on black spandex pants with a midriff baring cropped top that barely contained her obviously fake D cup boobs. Her skin was white, as if she never saw the sun and her hair was long and black as night. A slash of red lipstick provided the only color on her face. She wiggled over to the bar and got behind it. She fiddled with something behind the bar, then stuck her head up. "We got the fight on four cameras, Pauly. Mr. Barf on the floor there definitely threw the first punch. The other guy blocked the punch and hit him exactly once." Her voice was straight out of Brooklyn.

Pauly glared down at Josh. "I got too many guys who think there tough in here as it is. You and your friends are all 86'd. You ever come in here again, I'll toss your asses out. Way out. And I won't bother opening the damned door first. Now get out!"

Josh picked himself up, and left with his friends, making eye contact with no one.

"What about you, Slick. You gonna cause any trouble?" Pauly turned to Peake.

Peake looked surprised. "Us? Do we look like troublemakers to you?"

Pauly nodded. "Like you got a big neon sign around your neck saying trouble. Big trouble."

Peake shook his head vigorously. "Not us, Pauly. We don't want to meet your accountant."

Pauly gave all and sundry a glare, then looked at Kate. "You a cop?"

Kate showed her badge. "Detective Kate Beckett. This is my step-daughter. We want to talk to Mr. Peake here. But it's personal, not police related."

Pauly gave Peake a hard look, then shook his head and walked back behind the bar. The place gradually got back to normal.

"Alexis and I would like to talk to you."

"Alone." Alexis added.

Peake shrugged, then turned to his friends. "I'll be over in the booth in the corner. I doubt this will take long."

As he passed the bar, Peake called out, "Sissy. Three beers in the corner."

"I'm on duty."

"I really don't want any." Alexis added.

"Just my three beers, then, Sissy."

Kate shook her head, but sat down with Peake and Alexis.

"What was that about his accountant?" Alexis asked, before Kate could say anything.

Peake accepted three beers from Sissy, who gave both Kate and Alexis a look.

"Kimo is Pauly's accountant. He's your basic three hundred pound Samoan. If he'd been a step faster, he'd be in the NFL, but he wasn't, so he's an accountant. Likes to arm wrestle a bit, I hear. And other things." Peake quickly changed the subject. "Why are you here, Castle?"

Kate replied. "You keep hanging around with those four and you'll get in trouble. Like Pauly said, it's like you have a neon sign around your neck. I can help you, if you'll let me."

Peake laughed and drank some beer. "Trouble? Been in trouble. If I keep hanging around with them, I'll probably end up dead."

"Is that what you want? I'm a homicide cop. I've seen the dead. I see them every day. That is not what you want."

"You know what I want, Detective? I want to do what I want to do, okay?" He turned to Alexis. "Why is it you can't stay out of my personal life all of a sudden, Castle?"

Kate had a momentary flashback to saying the something similar to another Castle.

"Vince, we were never good friends in school…"

"We hardly knew each other is a little more accurate."

Alexis took a deep breath. This was not going as she had planned. "Vince, you're smart. You got accepted at Rutgers."

"And didn't go." He quickly added.

Alexis gestured to Vince's four friends who were all in another booth on the other side of the bar, but closely watching Vince past the customers in the crowded bar. "You're not like them. You're not."

Vince laughed. "I sure as hell look a lot like them. I act like them, too. Actually, I'm more like them than I am like you."

Kate wasn't happy about how this was going either. "Look, we're trying to help you, but we can't help you if you don't want to be helped. This is something I know from personal experience. If you really don't want our help, tell us and we'll just leave."

Alexis looked at Kate in shock, then decided that perhaps the detective was right. For a moment both women thought that Vince was going to tell them to go ahead and leave. Instead, he smiled.

"Maybe it would make more sense to you if I told you my long, sad life story?"

Both women nodded.

"I was born at a very young age…" Peake began. "No, wrong place to start." He took a sip of beer, collecting his thoughts. "My parents divorced when I was twelve and my genius sister was sixteen. It was an amicable divorce, as divorces go, I suppose. There was no shouting or throwing things, more like a prolonged strained silence. Anyway, my dad changed jobs. He moved to Palo Alto, California and went to work for BFF. That's Benton, Feinstein and Feng, a big time venture capitalist firm. They've financed half of the Silicon Valley. That was cool. I got to go visit him for the summer each year, lived in the Bay Area, saw games, hung around the Stanford campus, got to see the coolest video games before anyone else."

He took another sip of beer. "Like I said, it was an amicable divorce. My dad managed Mom's financials for her, and my sister's and my college funds. And then one day, just before I graduated from Marlowe Prep, everything turned to shit. Dad had some financial problems and "borrowed" from his company. He had more problems and borrowed more. To make a long story short, one day he transferred one hundred and sixty five million dollars of his clients' money to some off shore accounts and headed for Brazil. He took Mom's money and our college funds with him."

"We were basically broke. We moved in with Mom's parents. Grandpa is a retired insurance exec. Well off, but no rich like we had been. All the grandparents ever did was bitch about how they knew dad was a bum and why did mom ever marry him? Mom cried about being broke. All she could talk about was what she used to have. My sister bitched constantly about how she'd had to give up Yale Law School and get a job. I bitched mostly about how everyone else was bitching. No one paid any attention to me. The perils of being a younger child, I suppose."

Vince finished one beer and started on the next. He laughed. "I called my dad up a couple of times in Brazil. Each time I got some different Brazilin chick who said Dad couldn't come to the phone. I could hear the sound of a party in the background."

Alexis broke in. "Just because you got a bad break, doesn't mean you can't change things. We can help you."

Peake laughed again and finished his second beer. "It's been a lot of fun teasing you two, but I'm afraid that I eventually decided to do something stupid and dangerous. Really stupid and really dangerous." His hand dropped under the table and Kate's hand went to her gun butt. However, Peake's hand came up with just his wallet. He took out a plastic card and handed it to Kate.

"What's this?"

"It's called a Common Access Card. It identifies me as Vincent M. Peake, Sergeant, US Army." He took out a piece of folded up paper and unfolded it. "These are my orders, indicating I'm a 68 Whiskey Victor, a combat medic Airborne Ranger, First Ranger Battalion, Hunter Army Air Field, Georgia."

Peake pointed across the bar to his friends. "Every Ranger Battalion has a weapons company and every weapons company has a sniper section, three two man sniper teams. I'm the sniper section's medic. That's two thirds of my battalion's sniper section over there. Would you like to meet them? I can guarantee they're as dangerous as anyone you're likely to meet, Detective."

Kate and Alexis exchanged glances, then Alexis nodded. "I'd like to meet your friends."

Peake motioned to his friends to come over. When they were seated, he introduced them. "Francis Xavier Cao." He pointed to the Asian. "His family runs a shrimp boat out of Galveston. Since he's from Texas and his name is Cao, we call him Cowboy."

"Next is another Texan." He pointed to the heavily built Hispanic. "Alfonso Bedoya. Born in El Paso, but lived most of his life across the river in Juarez. His family moved back across the border when things got too weird in Juarez. He loves the old spaghetti westerns, especially _The Good, the Bad and the Ugly._ We tried calling him Feo, which is Spanish for ugly, but he didn't like that, so we settled on Tuco."

The young man smiled at them.

"Next is Jaime Almagro, born in East LA, but got out while he was young. He's skinny, so he's called Flaco, skinny in Spanish. Flaco figures being a soldier is safer than living in East LA and from what he hears about his cousins still there, he's right."

"Last and least," Peake pointed to the stocky African American. "Is John Boyle, J. Boy. His dad is a Baptist preacher in Chicago. All the stereotypes you've heard about preacher's kids being completely out of control are true. J Boy won't tell us the truth, but rumor is that his dad kicked him out of Chicago all together."

J Boy just smiled.

"What do they call you?" Alexis asked.

"What soldiers have been calling medics since forever. I'm Doc."

"You could be a pre-med when you get out. I'm pre-med. I'm sure you could do it."

"Yeah, if I hadn't reenlisted for six years." Seeing Alexis's disappointment, Vince continued." Look, I like what I do. In A-Stan, I'm usually the first doctor of any sort anyone's seen since the Russians left."

"Doctors Without Borders does that. And a lot of other NGOs." Alexis said, hoping Vince didn't know about Josh.

"Yeah." J Boy said. "I had to bag up some NGOs once after the Jihadis came through."

"We go places no NGOs go, Alexis. And that's cool. It's why I like it."

"Why were you so disinterested in telling Alexis all this at first?" Kate asked.

He laughed. "She's too easy to tease. When we were in high school, I used to think she got up every morning, looked in the mirror and said, "Everything I do today will be something that will get me into the college I want." I was never like that."

"There's nothing wrong with working for the future you want. You didn't have to lie to me." Alexis said unhappily.

Vince shrugged. "This isn't my first trip back to New York. I got yelled at enough by my family the first time to put me off seeing them for a while. They felt I wasn't helping the family. And it isn't the first time I've run into Marlowe alums. Before I went to the 'Stan this time I ran into a bunch of them. Carly West, Dave Moore, Pete Ross, Crissy Wentworth, and that whole crew from Marlowe. I was the only one not going to an expensive, private college. Everyone thought it was a shame I couldn't have done better like a Marlowe grad should." Peake took another gulp of beer. "Fuck 'em."

Vince suddenly laughed. "Do you remember Donna Wisnewski? She's quite the little anti-war activist these days. Among other things, she asked me how I could kill innocent women and children."

Alexis noticed the other soldiers smiling, as if expecting a punch line. "What did you tell her?"

"I gave her the standard answer. To kill innocent women and children, you shoot lower and don't lead them as much."

"That's horrible." Alexis said.

Vince shrugged. "Military humor tends to be kind of dark. Really dark."

"Much like police humor." Kate added. "Tell me. Why were you at El Guerrero? It doesn't seem like your kind of place. Alexis went looking for you there and…had problems."

"Castle! What the hell were you doing there?" Vince demanded.

"Looking for you." Alexis said with a glare.

Vince looked back at Kate. "A buddy of ours lost both legs when his chopper went down. He lives around there. But, he's married now, in college, and still seeing the doctors. Not much time to hang with his old buddies. El Guerrero was close so we went to have a beer or two. Not our kind of place."

"So, what are Kay Bills?" Kate asked.

"Kaibiles." Tuco said, giving it a Spanish pronunciation.

"A Spanish word for Ranger." Vince explained.

Flaco tapped his watch. "About time."

Peake nodded. "We have to be off. Got things to see and people to do."

"Wait!" Alexis said. "Take my phone number. Call me, please."

Vince smiled. "Do you want me to take you back to El Guerrero?"

"Do you want to take me back there?" She shot back.

Vince and his friends laughed.

"Give her your number, Doc. If she went looking for you at El Guerrero, she's a Ranger kind of woman." Cowboy said.

Vince shook his head. "She's beautiful all right, but she isn't deaf, dumb and blind, and doesn't own a liquor store. So she's not the perfect Ranger's woman."

"My Dad owns a bar." Alexis said, blushing at being called beautiful.

"Forget, Doc. I'm in love with you." Cowboy said quickly.

They exchanged numbers, and the men got up to leave.

"Vince, be careful, okay?"

J Boy smiled at her. "Don't worry about us. Lo, though we shall walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we shall fear no evil. For we are the evilest motherfuckers in the whole valley." Vince and his friends laughed and were gone. Kate and Alexis got up as well.

Kate sat on her Harley with Alexis on the back and looked at the five men leaving. "I'm not sure that will work out." She said to Alexis.

"Like you and Dad didn't?"

"Okay, I deserved that. But there are a lot more problems in front of you than here were for Rick and me."

She could feel Alexis shrug. "So maybe he'll just be some guy I know. Vince, actually all of them, are a lot different than anyone I've ever met. They're interesting. And he's a medic."

Kate said, "Your dad will be thrilled." But that was lost when she started her Harley.


	8. Chapter 8

Who Are You?

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: This belongs to ABC, or someone else. Not me. Rating: M. Time: Season seven.

 **Chapter eight.**

"Mr. and Mrs. Castle?"

Rick and Kate were headed for the baggage carousel at the Toussaint Louverture International Airport in Port au Prince, Haiti. "Yes?" Rick said.

"I'm Joe Malone, from the embassy." He held out his ID. Malone was a stocky young man, about six feet tall with sandy brown hair and an air of competence. He was dressed informally in khaki slacks and an aloha shirt. Rick wished he hadn't worn a suit. Even though they were still in the terminal, it was hot and humid.

"We didn't expect anyone to meet us." Kate said. She had noted a suspicious bulge at Malone's hip.

"It isn't every day we get a world famous author and his world famous wife." Malone said cheerfully. "The ambassador decided we should make an effort." Malone pointed to the terminal doorway. "I've had your luggage taken to the car. This way, please."

The car turned out to be a large, white SUV, complete with a Haitian driver. Malone rode shotgun and Rick and Kate got in the back. Rick noticed a cardboard box on the seat beside him. "What's this?"

"We understand that the NYPD uses Glocks. We have two Glock 19s and two Glock 26s as back up pieces. Holsters, spare clips and extra ammo are in the box."

"We have no authorization to go armed in Haiti." Kate said quickly.

"You do now." Malone handed them two plastic covered ID cards. Rick saw they were in French with his and Kate's photos on them. "Those are IDs from the Haitian National Police, and these, "he handed them two more cards, "are IDs from the United Nations Stabilization Mission. The UN has about ten thousand troops here, mostly from Brazil, and about four thousand police, plus various civilian personnel. You're officially here on loan from the NYPD. If you have any problems, just call me." He handed them each a business card.

"Are the weapons necessary?" Rick asked.

Malone shrugged. "Haiti is one of the poorest nations in the world. It's also one of the most corrupt and one of the most violent. As long as you stay out of the areas the police and military have blocked off, you should be okay. But keep your eyes open."

As if on cue, they came upon two armored personnel carriers, painted UN white, forming a road block, closing off a side street. A dozen or more camouflage wearing soldiers stood ready. Rick noticed that the machine guns on the roofs of the vehicles were manned and ready.

"Are things that bad?"

Malone laughed. "You should have been here in 2010 after the earthquake. Things really got hairy then."

"Are they still hairy enough for you to carry a weapon?" Kate asked. Unlike Rick, she had loaded her weapons and jacked a round into the chambers of both pistols.

"Absolutely." Malone replied. "I carry an M9 Beretta. And that's when I'm in town where it's nice and safe. Relatively speaking. "

"What exactly do you do?" Rick asked.

"Economic development."

"And they sent an economist to the airport to pick us up?"

Malone shrugged. "I'm the junior man."

"You wouldn't know my dad by any chance would you?"

Malone shook his head. "I can't think of anyone I know of named Castle other than you two."

"How about a Jackson Hunt?"

Malone shook his head.

"Anderson Cross?"

"Nope. Never heard of either of them. Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." Castle said with a disarming smile.

Malone handed them a folder. "This is what we have on the last surviving d'Erlon gang member, Julian d'Erlon. He came back to Haiti about a dozen years ago. He had some money, a million, maybe two, which makes him fantastically rich by Haitian standards. He's more or less a legitimate businessman. I say more or less, because, as I said, Haiti is dirt poor, corrupt and violent. So he keeps a private security force of a couple dozen thugs around and he bribes the police and government. But everyone bribes the police and government these days. He lives in Cap Hatien on the north shore of the island. He owns the best hotel in town, which isn't saying much, and the best restaurant, which is pretty good. They have great sea food. He makes his money from gas and oil. He pretty much controls all of the gas stations around Cap Haitien and has his fingers in a lot of pies up there."

"He doesn't sound like that much of a legitimate businessman." Kate said tartly.

"Around here, he's a pillar of the community." Malone answered.

The SUV pulled up in front of a hotel. "This is our hotel, the Best Western Premiere." Castle said.

"Can we rent a car to take us to Cap Hatien?" Kate asked.

"I'd recommend against it." Malone said. "The roads, for that matter the whole infrastructure, in Haiti are bad even by Third World standards. And the roads aren't safe. I'd recommend you take a boat. There's a guy the embassy uses. He can take you up to Cap Hatien tomorrow."

Rick and Kate exchanged glances. Rick nodded. "Okay. How do we get in touch with him?"

"I'll call him for you. I'll arrange for him to pick you up here at about nine tomorrow morning. Okay?"

"Okay."

Once inside their suite, Rick began to unpack.

"You should load your weapons first." Kate said.

"You think so?" He said, unsure.

"The Embassy guy, Malone, is probably CIA and I'd sort of expect him to be armed. But there were soldiers with assault rifles and protective vests on the streets, in groups of four. Lots of them. And we got some looks from the local citizenry I didn't like. We're not in New York anymore, Toto."

Rick nodded. "Loading the guns."

"It might be a good idea to eat in the hotel as well. We don't know this city at all. I'd rather be safe than sorry."

"We could order room service." Rick said, picking up a menu that was on the desk in their suite. "It looks pretty good and the prices are dirt cheap." Castle glanced at the bed and then wiggled his eyebrows. "And once we're done with dinner, we can entertain ourselves."

Kate shook her head. "Don't you ever stop thinking about sex?"

"Not where you're concerned."

Kate walked over to the bed, sat down and kicked off her shoes. Then she rolled over to the center of the bed. "That's one of the things I love about you."

Dr. Lanie Parish walked back into her morgue and came to a dead stop. Her morgue was crowded by a group of men, standing around. "Who the hell are you people?" She bellowed.

As soon as she spoke, a familiar redhead stuck her head around one of the young men. "Hi, Lanie. They told me you were out. I'm just showing some friends where I used to work. I hope you don't mind."

Lanie grinned at Alexis. "I guess I don't mind, but I'm not sure how your friends will feel about seeing an active morgue. It's pretty gross. If they throw up in here, you and they will clean up, not me."

The African-American chuckled and shook his head. "We won't be throwing up. Hell, we've seen worse than this. Why, we've _done_ worse than this."

Lanie frowned. _Who the hell were these friends of Alexis'?_

Alexis came toward her. "Lanie, let me explain."

Before Alexis could explain, the man held out his hand. "Sergeant John Boyle, ma'am. Sniper team leader, First Ranger Battalion."

The rest introduced themselves.

"Sergeant Frank Cao, ma'am. Sniper, First Ranger Battalion.

"Al Bedoya, Sergeant, sniper, First Ranger Battalion, ma'am."

"Sergeant Jaime Almagro, same as the rest, ma'am."

"Sergeant Vince Peake, medic, First Ranger Battalion. Everyone calls me Doc, ma'am."

The group looked as cocky as a certain writer she knew. Lanie decided to test them. "Okay, as long as you're here, you might give me a little help." She led the men and Alexis over to a covered body on a table and pulled the sheet down to the corpse's waist. "What do you think?"

She was only a bit surprised when the six young people crowded around the body.

"No spoilers, Castle." The medic said. "She wants to see what we can do. You having worked here and being pre-med gives you an unfair advantage over us warriors for the working day."

The five young men looked over the corpse, whispering among themselves. Finally, they decided on something. Boyle turned and nodded to Lanie. "Our distinguished colleague, Doc Peake, will present our findings."

Peake stepped forward and made a slight bow to Lanie, smiling as he did so. Lanie was sure the smile was intended more for Alexis than for her. "The killer was an amateur. No training at all. The killer used a knife to slash the victim. If you want to kill someone with a blade, you stab them, you don't slash them. A stab wound goes deep into the victim and damages the internal organs, hopefully fatally. In any case, you'll sever major veins and arteries and the victim will bleed out. The killer got lucky and managed to slash the carotid artery in the neck. Your victim has slash wounds on his hands where he tried to fend off the knife attack."

"Very good, Doctor." Lanie said.

Peake smiled. "Oh, we're not done. The slash wounds mostly aren't deep, indicating that not a great deal of force was used. The killer was not strong, perhaps a woman or a child, or even someone quite elderly. Lastly the slashes go from the victim's upper right to the lower left, indicating the killer was left handed, most likely. "

Lanie nodded, impressed. She picked up a clipboard. "The victim is William Berry, a butcher by trade. His fiancé, Carla Sanders walked into his shop to find him having sex with another woman. Carla grabbed a knife, slashed the other woman, who ran out screaming, and went to work on Mr. Berry. The vic, having his pants around his ankles, couldn't really run. Ms. Sanders is indeed left handed. Very good."

The soldiers exchanged high fives.

"I'm trying to convince Vince to go to med school, Lanie." Alexis said. "Could you talk to him?"

Vince held up his hand. "Before you do, Dr. Parish, I just re-enlisted for six years and I'm thinking of trying to get into the Special Forces. And I can't really see going to college, to med school, plus an internship, just to get to where I am now. The places that I've been downrange, I'm the most qualified medical person they've seen in their entire lives. And the places I go, nobody but armed men are going to go. Like I said, I like what I do."

Lanie nodded. "But there's no reason I can't talk to you a bit about other possibilities, is there?"

Peake sighed. "I guess not."

Lanie talked to Peake about medical school and all of its advantages, but sensed he was just being polite by listening to her. "You're something of an adrenaline junkie, aren't you?" She finally said.

Peake laughed, attracting Alexis' attention. She was trying to get his friends to talk to her about Vince, but they stuck to generalities. "Could be. But I do get a kick out of helping people. Giving people medical care they'd probably never get without me or someone like me."

"Aren't you overstating things a bit?" Lanie asked.

Peake smiled at her. "Let me tell you a story about the first time I deployed to Afghanistan. We were up north of Bagram Air Base, out near the Panjshir Valley, but more to the west. There were a lot of Hazara around there. The Hazara are supposedly descendants of the Mongols who over ran a lot of the world under Genghis Khan back in the day. They have no use for the Taliban, the Hazara being Shia and not Sunni." 

"Anyway, we had this Hazara kid come running into our FOB with a message from one of the local Hazara tribal chieftains. Something about a difficult pregnancy. We loaded up a half a dozen Humvees, I grabbed my stuff and off we went. I actually was trained a little on child birth, you know. So, we're about halfway to the village and we come around a bend and there's about a dozen jihadis setting up an IED. Why they didn't hear us coming, I have no idea. We see them, they see us and for just a second, we look at each other, then all hell breaks loose. We win, they lose."

"We drive on to the village and this woman comes waddling out to see us. She's huge! I mean she's about fourteen month pregnant, I'm sure. So I head for her and the chief grabs me and calls the terp, interpreter, over. He isn't worried about his pregnant daughter-in-law, it's his prize goat that's in need of my medical skills. Sure enough the goat's pregnant and the baby goat is in the breach position. I grab a big, husky machine gunner who isn't doing anything to hold the goat down, and I move the kid and deliver successfully, Mother and child were doing well."

"In the meantime, the woman has delivered her child all by herself and is off, carrying a cow up the mountain, or some damn thing. I don't know."

"Anyway, the moral of the story is, that if I wasn't armed, there'd be one more dead goat in A-Stan. How could I not want to do that with my life?"

Lanie couldn't think of anything to say to that. Luckily, one of Peake's friend's spoke up.

"Hey, Doc. Your girlfriend says she knows a Mexican restaurant whose owner comes from Monterrey, Nuevo Leon." Tuco said. "Get your shit together, amigo. We are going to feast."

" _Mi novia?_ " Peake said quietly.

" _Si. Su novia._ " Tuco replied.

Peake turned to Lanie. "I guess I'm out of here. Thanks for the talk, Doctor Parish."

Rick and Kate found a pickup truck waiting in front of their hotel the next morning. A heavily built black man walked up to them, smiling. "Mr. and Mrs. Castle? I'm Bob Leslie." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Those are my cousins." Three unsmiling men sat in the bed of the pickup. "Mr. Malone uses us because we're Jamaicans."

Neither Rick nor Kate had any idea why being Jamaican would make any difference, but they climbed into the truck. After a brief discussion, Rick sat in the middle of the bench seat with Kate on the passenger side.

They drove through several police and military roadblocks with nothing more than a wave. Apparently the Leslie family was well known. Kate did notice that the cousins in the back seemed to have their heads on a swivel and kept their hands close to a tarp in the truck bed. Kate slid her hand to the butt of her gun. She tried to alert Castle, but he was too busy asking questions of Bob Leslie to pay any attention to her.

Eventually, they reached the harbor and went to a dilapidated dock in a seemingly deserted past of the port. Kate thought it looked like a great place to dump a body or two. The cousins in the back jumped out, now armed with AK 47 assault rifles that had apparently been under the tarps. Bob smiled. "Can't be too careful." Kate noticed that the cousin's attention was everyplace but on Rick and her. She relaxed slightly.

Bob led them to the edge of the dock. There below them was a cigarette boat. The cousins hopped in the back and Bob helped his two passengers down the ladder to the boat. "These boats are fast, but the ride isn't very smooth. "Bob said. "Much better with some Red Stripe." He opened a cooler, showing them bottles of beer. He took one for himself and gave one to each of his passengers. "Drink all you want." He said, heading for the cockpit. When he started the engines, Kate could hardly hear a thing. Even screaming in Rick's ear, she could hardly get through to him. They settled down for a long, bumpy boat ride.

Finally, they arrived at another dilapidated dock, this one in Cap Hatien. Bob pointed to a man standing at the far end of the dock by a large 80's vintage Ford. "That's Emile. He'll take you to d'Erlon's. He'll also call us when you're ready to come home." The Leslies got back in their boat and were gone.

Emile turned out to speak little English, or so it appeared. He put their luggage in the trunk and drove madly through the streets, using his horn instead of his brakes. Finally, atop a hill overlooking the town, they arrived at a Spanish Colonial style mansion, all white washed adobe, red tile roof, green lawns and roses. Emile disappeared with the luggage. Rick and Kate headed to the front door. Before they had a chance to knock, it was opened by a strikingly beautiful Haitian woman, who bowed to them and handed them an envelope. In it was a note addressed to them.

 _My Dear Mr. and Mrs. Castle,_

 _I regret that a fire at one of my facilities requires my attention and I will be unable to meet with you until tomorrow. I sincerely apologize for this._

 _Yours,_

 _Julian d'Erlon_

"So Mr. d'Erlon isn't at home?" Rick asked.

The woman simply stared at the two Americans with a blank look on her face. Then turned and walked away. She was dressed in a white dress that covered her from neck to ankles, but was so thin that in appeared she had nothing else on. Following her, the Castles walked past two other very attractive Haitian women, similarly dressed, who also stared blankly ahead and paid no attention to the newcomers. At long last, they reached a bedroom on the second floor of the house. Their clothing was being put away by yet another blank faced Haitian woman.

"I'll do that." Kate said, grabbing a dress and hanging it up. "You can go now. We can take care of this."

The woman ignored Kate, not even looking at her and continued to hang the clothing up. Kate decided not to interfere. Finally both women left, without saying a word.

"I'm not sure I like this." Kate said.

Rick shrugged. "Isn't this what meeting a fugitive drug lord is all about? But with zombies?"

"Zombies, babe? Really?"

"Yes, real Haitian zombies. It's a drug from the pufferfish. It turns people into zombies."

"In other words, these women are all stoned."

"It doesn't sound the same when you say it that way."

Kate put her arms around Rick. "In other words, we're meeting with a fugitive drug lord in Haiti. Relax. He wants to talk to us. That's why he asked us to come here."

"Maybe I am overreacting."

Kate just smiled.

Shortly after sundown another blank faced Haitian woman delivered dinner to the couple.

"Seafood, fresh vegetables, a fresh salad with our choice of dressings, onion soup, and a bottle…"He picked the bottle out of the ice bucket…"very good Chardonnay. From the Napa Valley. Our Mr. d'Erlon doesn't seem to be a wine snob, anyway."

They ate dinner and then relaxed on the balcony outside their bedroom. "I wonder if our cell phones will work out here." Castle said, pulling out his cell. "Hey, I've got bars." He hit a number. "Hey! Espo! Where are you?"

"Castle? I'm at work. Where are you?"

"Enjoying the hospitality of Mr. d'Erlon and his all-girl zombie party here in Haiti."

"Get anything?"

"D'Erlon isn't at home, so we won't see him until tomorrow. How about you?"

"We have some leads, nothing concrete, and nothing I'd like to discuss on an unsecure line."

"Okay, just wanted to let you know we're okay and where we are." He turned to Kate." Need to say anything to Espo?"

"Keep working. We'll be back soon. Bye."

They were about to go back in when Castle heard something. "What is that?"

"Drums?" Kate said.

"Voodoo drums. Someone's being made undead as we speak."

"Castle, it's probably just the locals having a party."

"Yeah, you've seen what a wild and crazy bunch they are. Tonight I'm sleeping with my weapons on the nightstand and the door locked."

Kate nodded. "Me, too, I think. But not because I'm afraid of zombies."

"Just remember to shoot them in the head."

They were almost ready for bed when the door opened and another blank faced young woman walked in and walked to their bed.

"We don't need the bed turned down, we can just…"

Kate stopped as the woman reached down, grabbed the hem of her gown and pulled it over her head. Then she lay on the bed, naked, and spread her legs.

"Rick, help me get her dressed and out of here."

Rick nodded, and, trying his best not to look, helped Kate get her up, dressed and out of their room.

"I'm putting something in front of the door." Rick said, moving a dresser in front of the door.

"That must be a first for you, Rick. Getting a strange woman _out_ of your bed?"

"Hardly. I was doing a book tour for _Unholy Storm_ in Ft. Worth and when I got to my hotel room, there was a woman there naked but for cowboy boots and spurs, with a saddle she wanted me to wear. She said it'd be the ride of my life. I turned her down."

Kate laughed so hard she couldn't get to sleep for half an hour.


	9. Chapter 9

Who Are You?

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: I don't. You know that. Rating: M, occasionally. Time: Season Seven.

 **Chapter Nine**

Espo hung up the phone after talking to the Castle's in Haiti. "I hope the hell they find out something. I've been reading these reports until my eyes are sore. We got nothing."

Ryan smiled at him. "Oh, ye of little faith."

Espo sat up. "You found something?"

Ryan nodded. "I got everyone even remotely connected to the case and ran their phones and financials. Look who pulled perimeter duty on the day of the cops' shooting to keep the idle curious away."

Espo looked at it and shrugged. "So? Three cops go down, everyone shows up. Wants to help. If I hadn't been up to my ears in another case, I'd have been there, too."

"But look at the financials I pulled." He handed over another file.

This time Espo sat up and took notice. "That's a lot of money. And all under ten thousand so the IRS doesn't get notified. "Espo checked further. "Wait. These are all by checks from casinos in Atlantic City. What kind of a dirty cop takes a payoff by check?"

"A smart one. Let's say you're a dirty cop. Now the New Jersey gaming commission keeps most organized crime out of the casinos, but you and I know that some wise guys have their foot in the door. So, you tell a crooked dealer to let your cop buddy win and then you cut a check. If anyone in the NYPD finds out about it, they have nothing. So the cop wins at poker? All that you can prove is that the cop's a good poker player. I'll bet all of this goes on the old income taxes, too."

"So what do we do?" Espo asked.

"The checks get deposited on Mondays, so I'll bet that our poker playing cop spends the weekends in AC. Wanna head for the casinos, partner?"

"Better than reading the damned files."

…

The next morning Rick and Kate came down for breakfast. They passed the usual collection of vacant eyed, lovely Haitian women on the way. At the bottom of the staircase a man met them.

"Mr. and Mrs. Castle. I was just coming up to get you. Mr. d'Erlon is having breakfast on the balcony and wishes that you join him. This way please."

Surrounding the balcony was a riot of colorful tropical flowers. Mr. d'Erlon, sitting at a table, looked up at them and smiled. He was fiftyish, dressed in white slacks and an aloha shirt and had his hair carefully combed over a bald spot. "Please, sit down and have breakfast. Clarice will serve you whatever you wish."

Clarice was another blank faced Haitian woman who pushed a cart loaded with food to the Castles. Rick filled his plate while Kate, not wishing to accept a drug dealer's hospitality, had a coffee and a sweet roll.

"I am a bit surprised that the NYPD responded so quickly to my offer to talk." d'Erlon said.

Rick smiled. "If we'd waited for the NYPD to act, we'd still be filling out paperwork. I bought us first class tickets to Haiti. And got us a nice hotel room."

D'Erlon laughed quietly. "Of course. You are a famous and wealthy writer of mysteries. I fear I have never read your books, Mr. Castle. I have had quite enough violence in my life, I need no fictional violence." Getting no reply, d'Erlon went on. "I should perhaps explain my position here. I am, as they say, a pillar of the community here. You will notice that the roads here are paved. I see to that. After all, I sell gasoline at my service stations. I need for my customers to be able to use their vehicles."

"The children here all go to school. I make sure that their teachers are paid on time and paid well. I also see to it that every child gets a good breakfast and a good lunch. Of course, I insure that they all know that this comes from their _Oncle Julian."_ D'Erlon sighed. "Young men with no education, and no real hopes of a life without an education are a curse in this world, Mr. Castle. All they are good for is mindless violence. I have seen too many children like that here in Haiti and more in New York. I cannot have that here in my back yard."

"I am well connected with the government and even with the United Nations. Even your government finds it politic to deal with me. So, I will admit to you that I was a drug dealer in New York. I tell you this so you will accept what I say, as I will never be extradited to the US. Do we understand each other?"

Rick nodded and Kate said, "We understand each other perfectly."

D'Erlon smiled. "Good. We, and by we, I mean all of the drug dealers in New York were being robbed by your three dead policemen, Dunn, Borelli and Grenzler. However, they were just the hired help, so to speak. Their bosses, and note I use the plural, we higher up. The cops were stupid enough to complain about their bosses in front of us. The bosses were smart. The cops had to hand over every cent they stole. That way they wouldn't have their cover blown by some underpaid cop showing up for work in an expensive sports car, or bragging about a trip to Vegas. The idea was that when they were all ready to retire, they'd divide up the money and leave New York, probably for someplace with no extradition treaty with the United States."

"So how did Moncrief get killed?" Kate asked.

"As I said, the three cops were stupid and unhappy with their lot. They felt they deserved a bit of fun for all of their troubles. So, when they robbed Moncrief, they took out ten thousand dollars for themselves and a bit of cocaine. They hired some hookers and had a nice little party one weekend."

"We know about that." Castle said.

"So did their bosses. They told the three cops if they ever did that again, they'd find other cops to do their dirty work for them and cut them off. What could the three do? Go to the police?" D'Erlon laughed at his own joke.

"For some reason, they decided that Mr. Moncrief had ratted them out. They cornered him in an abandoned building where Moncrief had a secret hiding place for money and drugs. Everyone involved is now dead and no one can be certain of what happened. But, we think that they threatened Mr. Moncrief, he panicked and stabbed one of the policeman and tried to run. He was shot in the back and finished off with a round to the head. One of the cops was injured, so they put Moncrief's body in the secret room and the money, a notebook and some film. The injured cop made up some story as to how he was injured and they intended to return when things died down and recover the money and other things."

"So, you had the three killed to avenge your money man?" Kate said, coldly.

"Not us. Someone else."

"Does this someone else have a name?"

"Eduardo Izquerida, a Cuban gangster who ran things in New York for a group of Cubans in Miami."

"Wait!" Castle interrupted. "How did the Cubans get involved in this?"

"Not the Cubans, just Izquerida. Izquerida was a moneyman like Mr. Moncrief. He was supposed to take a duffel bag of cash across town, but it was Sunday and his wife insisted on going to church. So, off he went with his wife, son and daughter, but no cash. The three dirty cops stopped him and demanded the cash. They were outraged when they found out he had none. They beat him up, hit his wife, called her a _puta_ , a whore, slapped the son, who was eleven and terrified his daughter who was nine. Then they let them go, with a warning."

"He must have been furious." Castle said, quietly.

D'Erlon nodded. "He expected such treatment for himself, but he couldn't allow his family to be treated that way. Now this happened before the murder of Mr. Moncrief. Izquerida knew that if he had the dirty cops just killed, the higher ups would just find more dirty cops to rob him. But, he found about the killing of Mr. Moncrief and somehow, he identified one of the higher ups."

"Who did the killing? Izquerida?" Kate asked.

D'Erlon shrugged. "No one knows. They were brought in from out of town. When the three cops showed up to get the money, they were ambushed and killed. Everyone hoped the police would find Mr. Moncrief's body and the money. Then everyone would know the cops were dirty and killers. But, if anyone found it, they kept it quiet. Izquerida suggested to the higher up that he'd identified that he'd kill him and his whole family if anyone ever came near him again. "

"Are you suggesting…" Kate began, angrily.

"There are other dirty cops out there, Detective. Perhaps they really never found anything. One would think that if the bosses did find it, they'd have taken it away. But who knows?"

"Where is Izquerida now?"

"Dead, Detective Beckett. He died of cancer two years ago. Others probably know something of what happened, but I don't know who they are."

"Did Izquerida's threat work?" Castle asked.

"No one bothered Mr. Izquerida or his family, but as far as I know, the robberies by police continued for some time. With smarter police doing the dirty work."

….

"Welcome to the gilded mousetrap." Ryan said as they left the elevator from their room at the casino.

"What?"

"The gilded mousetrap. Casino architecture, Javi. You leave your room, you have to go through the casino. You want to eat, the restaurants are through the casino. The bar? Through the casino. Bathrooms? Through the casino. Everything takes you through the casino."

"Okay, so let's go _through_ the casino and get breakfast. I'm starving."

They picked a spot in the restaurant where they could watch the floor and waited for their waitress.

"So, what do our two non-tipping cops want this morning?" Her name was Andi, according to her nametag, and if she'd been taller, she'd have been a showgirl.

"That obvious?" Espo asked.

""'Fraid so. So, what do you want to eat?"

"First tell us why we stand out?" Ryan interrupted Espo, who was about to order.

Andi smiled. "You gonna give me a big tip?"

Ryan handed her a five.

"Hotel security. They see you're packing. They check your car and run the plates. It's NYPD. Security puts your photos out. Easy."

"Do any of the players know?"

Andi shrugged. "Probably not. You don't make any money by frightening the players away."

The two detectives dawdled over breakfast, then walked out onto the casino floor. "See, Javi? No clocks anywhere so you can't tell what time it is. And the windows are darkened. It's mid morning, but to the gamblers, it could be any time. See those old ladies feeding the slots? They probably don't know what month it is." Ryan smiled. "When you're old and retired, you'll probably end up here, shoveling your pension into one of those things just to have someone to talk to."

"Nah. I'll talk to my old partner about the good old days."

"Jenny will just love that."

They spent hours walking around the casino, going outside to the boardwalk, looking around, then coming back in. They browsed in every shop, not buying any of the tourist merchandise that was for sale. Everyone was extra polite to them, leading them to believe that their pictures had been sent to everyone in the casino. They ended up eating dinner at another restaurant. The waitress was Carolyn, and she might have been a showgirl.

"So, does everyone know we're cops, Carolyn?" Espo asked.

She looked surprised. "Um, cops?" She paused. "Would you like to order?"

"We know how it works. Security sees were armed, checks the cars, finds were NYPD and everyone gets our pictures. So why hasn't some nice friendly PR type guy come by to ask why we're here?"

"That's why I'm here." A voice from behind them said. The PR guy was so friendly looking that both cops distrusted him at once. He sat down at their table. "Ryan Cousins, management. To answer your question, if you'd showed up with a warrant, we'd have met you with our attorneys. Since you didn't, and you obviously didn't come here to gamble, we assume you don't want to cause a scene and we don't want to cause a scene and so we leave you alone. You weren't planning on causing a scene, we're you?"

"Us?" Ryan managed to act insulted. "Never. Unless someone starts a scene first."

"If you could tell me why you're here, perhaps I could help?" Both detectives noticed how sincere his smile looked.

"We're big boys. We can handle this ourselves."

Cousins smiled. "Then I'll leave you to it."

After dinner, they walked around the casino again. "We should hit the penny slots or something, bro. If you don't gamble, there's nothing to do in a casino. Or we could go to a show."

"Our poker playing cop won't be at a show. We're here on business not for fun."

"We should have brought Castle." Espo grumped.

"Not needed. Our night just got a lot more interesting." Ryan pointed to a familiar face just entering the casino. "Let's go."

They followed the suspect to a room off the main casino floor with a sign that said, "Private." As they started to go in, a large bouncer stopped them. "Sorry, fellows. This is for high rollers only and by invitation only. You can gamble elsewhere, okay?"

Epso showed his badge. "I'm sure you know who we are and we need to see our colleague. Or would you make a scene by stopping us?"

Another suit walked up and asked what the matter was. When Espo explained, he smiled. "Of course. Go right in."

The suspect was sitting facing away from them at a poker table.

"Good evening, Lieutenant Bergdahl. Mind if we chat?"

Bergdahl put down her cards. "You two are better than I thought you were." She tossed her cards to the dealer. "Jimmy, I fold. I had garbage anyway. And cash me out. We'll be at the bar, having a beer."

Bergdahl walked them to the bar and ordered beers. "So, now it's time to hear my life story."

"We'd be interested." Espo said.

"My uncle Jerry was a professional poker player. He lived in Vegas, but traveled about half the year. When he'd come to New York, he'd stop and see us. He taught me how to play poker and how to read people. That last comes in handy as a cop. Anyway, I played a little in high school, but there aren't many teenaged poker players. When I got to college, I found more players. I soon discovered I was a lot better than the local competition. Pretty soon, nobody wanted to play with me. Off campus I found it was easy to get into games. Everyone wanted to play with the hot chick who thought she could play poker. And after a while, none of the locals wanted to play. When I became a cop, the same thing. Everyone wanted to play with the hot cop. Until I cleaned them out."

"Must have been tough on you." Espo said, unsympathetically.

Bergdahl shrugged. "Being a cop, I couldn't play in any games in New York, gambling is illegal. So, I started hitting the casinos in AC. They know they'll get a certain number of really good players, but they'll also get a ton of lousy players, so they don't care if I win a lot. Just so you know, IA knows all about my gambling. They keep an eye on me so that if I start losing bigtime, they can intervene." She smiled. "Actually, having a cop around who knows poker and casinos can be a help. I've been loaned out to vice and even the New Jersey gaming commission." She smiled. "So, you two have my story and now you should go check on it." She downed the rest of her beer. "And I have a poker game to get back to. Good night, Detectives."

….

"Detective Beckett? Mr. Castle? My office, please."

Rick and Kate found themselves sitting with Ryan and Esposito in Gates' office. She closed the door.

"Would you please tell me what you found out in Haiti?"

Kate told Gates and her detectives what they'd been told.

Gates nodded. "How very convenient that Mr. d'Erlon blames the death of the three officers on someone who's dead and can't be questioned." She turned to the two detectives. "I want you two to look into Mr. Izquerida's past and see if there's anyone who might be able to corroborate d'Erlon's story." She held her hands up to stop the two from speaking. "I know. It's highly unlikely that anyone at all involved in a murder would talk about it, but we might be pleasantly surprised."

Ryan muttered something about leprechauns and unicorns that Gates pretended not to hear.

"Mr. Castle, I have a job for you." She told Rick and Kate about what her two detectives had learned about Lieutenant Bergdahl. "I understand that you're a good poker player, Mr. Castle, so I'd like you to play poker with the lieutenant and see if she's as good as they say. And I'll be joining you, of course."

"You, sir?" Castle was surprised.

"Did you think I'd never played poker before?"

"Of course not, sir." Castle lied manfully. "I'd like to do this in my home, which means Kate will be there. She's a good poker player, so I'd like her to play, too."

"And I'd like Ryan and Esposito there as well, sir." Kate quickly added.

"I'll be happy to cover everyone's losses, sir."

"I'd assumed we'd not be playing for money, Mr. Castle." Gates said sharply.

"Playing when there's no risk is different than even playing for low stakes. People play differently, I've found. They take more risks, since they have nothing to lose. We wouldn't get a real appreciation for Bergdahl's abilities."

Gates thought for a moment, then nodded. "Okay, a dollar a chip and no single bet over five dollars. And if anyone feels they're losing too much, they drop out."

Both Martha and Alexis were somewhat shocked when Rick advised them of the upcoming game.

"Really, Richard? You're having Captain Gates over for a poker night. And some detective from IA? Can we expect a raid by the vice squad?"

"No, we're checking out Bergdahl's alibi. She claims she legally and fairly wins at poker at casinos in Atlantic City. Gates wants to make sure she's that good a player. Naturally, she came to me to do the testing."

"Can I play, Dad?"

"No. Not tonight. Not ever. You shouldn't be playing poker."

"You and Kate play?"

"Do as I cay and not as I do. And remember…."

"You're the father." Alexis finished for him. "So, I guess I can go out clubbing with some friends while you break the law with impunity. If I get busted someday, can I depend on you and Kate to make everything go away?"

"If by everything going away you mean your allowance and your access to my credit cards, the cars and what not, then yes. It'll all go away."

"Meanie." Alexis said and headed for her room.

"I suppose I'll make myself scarce that night as well. When I was younger being arrested by the police was a rite of passage, but I'm too old for that now."

"The police will not be raiding the place, Mother."

"Unless Captain Gates loses big. I never thought that woman looked like a gracious loser."

When they arrived, both Gates and Bergdahl were impressed with Castle's loft, although both women made an effort not to look _too_ impressed.

Castle had gone all out for the game. He had his black walnut poker table hauled upstairs from storage. He had bought a selection of craft beers for every taste and had ordered hors d'oeuvres in sufficient number to host a Presidential inauguration party and had a maid service in to clean.

"You know, Castle, you didn't go to this much trouble for our wedding." Kate had teased when the maids left.

"True, but after years and years of relentlessly chasing you and finally making you mine, I was too tired out to do the wedding up right."

"Nice save."

"I thought so."

"You did do the wedding night properly, though."

Castle just grinned.

Once sitting at the table, Castle began to look over the opposition. Kate was a good player who didn't bluff much, but could, and her face gave nothing away. Both Ryan and Espo had good poker faces, but Ryan was a cautious player, while Espo was too aggressive. Gates had an excellent poker face, but tended to stay in too long when she didn't have a good hand. Bergdahl was good. She had no tells that he could see and he couldn't get a fix on her style of play. He thought that she was being aggressive in one hand and passive in the next to confuse him. Once when he was positive she had a third queen, he stayed in the game, raising right along with her until he called her and found she didn't have the third queen. But, the next time he tried to see if she was bluffing, she not only had the third ten, but she had a full house.

After two hours, Ryan, Espo and Gates were out of the game. Kate was a little behind, while Rick and Bergdahl and Castle were up a bit. An hour after that, Kate was down seriously and Rick was down a bit to Bergdahl.

Gates checked her watch. "Have you seen enough to know if Lieutenant Bergdahl is a good poker player, Mr. Castle?"

He nodded. "She's very good. I expect she'll be retiring to Las Vegas someday."

"That's good to know." Gates said, starting to get up.

"But Castle sees we haven't really learned anything here tonight, haven't you?" Bergdahl said with a coy smile.

"What do you mean?" Gates demanded.

"All we know is that she's a very good poker player. Which means if she is dirty, it'd be a natural way to pay her off. No one could prove a thing."

Bergdahl stood up to leave. "But, on the bright side, I'm up fifty seven dollars tonight. Thanks for the game and the food and drink, Castle. I'm beginning to be glad that Gates kept you around. You are helpful."


	10. Chapter 10

Who Are You?

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: No me tenga Castle, comprende? Rating: K or sometimes M. Time: Season seven.

 **Chapter 10**

"Beckett, can we talk?" Roz Karpaowski stood at Kate's desk, looking uncomfortable.

"Sure, Roz. What is it?" Beckett leaned back in her chair.

"Um, can we talk privately?"

"Sure. The interview room?" Kate rose from her chair, wondering what was on the other detective's mind.

Once in the room with the doors shut, Roz still looked uncomfortable.

"Roz? You wanted to talk."

"Yeah. Um, every month or so, I have some female cops over, we have a couple of drinks, maybe order some pizza, bitch about our love lives…"

"You do know I'm married, don't you?" Kate asked gently, still wondering where this was going.

"One of the women who comes over is Melody Miller. She's a Special Agent with the DEA here in Manhattan. She told us a story about a month ago."

"About the dead cops or the dead drug dealer?" Kate was starting to get interested.

"No. She told us a story about something that was supposed to have happened in New Mexico."

The mention of New Mexico, where the mysterious Fed was supposedly from, really got Kate's attention. "And?"

"Melody said there was this pair of DEA agents, a man and a woman, who got kidnapped and taken into Mexico. They were both tortured and the woman was repeatedly raped. After about three days, their naked bodies were dumped out in the desert, just inside the US."

Roz stopped as if expecting Kate to say something.

"That's terrible, but how does it affect us?"

"All of the Feds and local cops went crazy. They…..may have overstepped their authority in trying to find out who the killers were."

"That's a matter for the authorities in New Mexico."

Roz nodded. "Normally, but Melody said they found out who the kidnappers were. A crew of six Mexicans. A professional kidnapping crew. The crew had no intention of crossing the border again and they had no real evidence to give to the Mexican authorities to ask for extradition. So they hit a stone wall. Nothing they could do."

Kate nodded. "We've all been there."

"But the DEA guys in New Mexico decided they did have an option. They had this gun for hire, a real cold blooded killer who'd killed four teenaged Mexican drug mules who had decided to steal the drugs instead of handing them over to their bosses. They offered him a deal. If he'd go to Mexico and kill the kidnappers, all the evidence against him would just disappear. He agreed and two weeks later six headless corpses were found in the desert just inside Mexico. Just after that, the Post Office found six severed heads in a package addressed to the US Attorney in New Mexico. There was no return address, naturally, but it was sent from Mexico."

"What happened?" Kate asked, now horrified.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Beckett, the DEA guys knew what they were doing. There was no evidence whatsoever that the DEA had conspired to obstruct justice, that they had destroyed evidence, or that they were involved in any way with an extra-judicial murder. Oh, sure, there were lots of rumors, like the one Melody heard, but no evidence. According to Melody, the local DEA boss decided he'd keep their hired gun around. Use him as a one man police death squad."

"What does this have to do with us?" Kate asked, sure that she knew the answer already.

"Melody said the guy was in his thirties, about six one, two twenty to two forty, and built like a weightlifter. Brown hair and eyes, shaggy hair and beard. He carried a modified 1911A1 Colt, fitted with a suppressor. Sound like anyone we know?"

Kate cursed. "Roz, don't tell anyone about this. Not anyone, until I can talk to Gates. She should be back from One PP in another hour or so. Castle, Ryan and Espo should be back by then, too. And you stick around, Gates will probably want to talk to you."

The first to show up were Ryan and Esposito who had been trying to track down anyone in the Izquerida family. Epso, who had done most of the talking to the family briefed her.

"The widow, Elisabeta Izquerida, went back to Miami after her husband died. She has family, including one of her husband's brothers, in Florida. The son is finishing up a law degree at Yale and the daughter is at Penn, studying finance. And, if we want to talk to any member of the family, we'll need a warrant and a nice big room so all of their attorneys can attend. We won't get anything out of them. We've tried to track down anyone who might have been close enough to Izquerida to know about the hit, but no luck so far."

"Keep at it." Beckett said. "But we have another problem now." She explained to her two detectives what she had been told by Karpowski.

"Shit. No wonder the Feds wanted him as far from New Mexico as possible."

Just then, both Castle and Gates exited the elevator. Kate stood up. "Sir, we need to talk."

Once inside Gates' office, Kate told the Captain what Karpowski had told her.

Gates frowned and shook her head. "I that's true and our alleged Fed is actually some hit man, why would the US Attorney been so dead set against our talking to him?"

"It could have been a ruse." Castle said. "They want him out of New Mexico, so they pretend they don't want to give him up, so we'll want him all that much more. Meanwhile, hoping he'll get his head blown off in New York so they don't have to deal with a big scandal."

"Or maybe the opposite, sir." Kate said. "They could want to use him to bring down the rogue DEA agents he worked for. Maybe they have more than just the rumors that Karpowski mentioned. Getting him to New York would keep him away from anyone in New Mexico that would want to silence him."

"And we're assuming that McCarty didn't land a job with some Federal Agency and has a New Mexico driver's license just as part of his cover." Castle added. "This whole thing about a tame DEA killer may be just an urban legend."

Gates shook her head. "Thank you, Mr. Castle, for adding another unhappy layer to our problem." Gates leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "I'll have to think of some way to approach the US Attorney about this without implying that the whole Department of Justice is sanctioning death squads. Don't say anything about this to anyone. Not anyone at all."

Back at Beckett's desk, Castle leaned over and whispered to her. "Is it my imagination, or are we growing less popular around here?"

"It's not your imagination, Castle. I'll admit that there are dirty cops and that some sort of Internal Affairs is necessary, but no one likes them. They seem to see everyone as guilty until proven innocent and they seem to enjoy busting cops way too much. And we're now working for IA."

"And I bet Lieutenant Bergdahl isn't the softest, cuddliest IA cop around."

Kate smiled. "Not by a long shot."

Mick Johnson called them later that afternoon. "Good news. I planted a couple of stories that the reason you can't find this McCarty guy is because he's hiding out with a ton of money he stole from drug dealers. Give's you guys a better reason for not finding that dirt bag. I got some other stuff to do. Later."

Castle shook his head when the phone call was over. "He calls himself a dirt bag?"

Kate smiled. "The secret to being undercover is never, ever get out of character. He's Mick Johnson now and no one else." She looked at her watch. "We should go home now. Do you want me to cook?"

"I love it when you talk culinary." Castle waggled his eyebrows and Kate giggled.

Rick was fumbling with the keys to his loft when the door was opened. A stocky Hispanic man opened the door, then smiled. "Hey, _Rojita_ , your folks are here." He opened the door widely. "Come on in, we're just about to have dinner. _Su casa es mi casa_ , or something."

Alexis, Martha and five young men were in the kitchen, mixing, chopping, slicing and dicing, mixing and cooking.

"Who….?" Rick began.

"These are Alexis' friends I told you about." Kate whispered in his ear. "I guess they're making dinner."

Martha waved Rick and Kate over. "Come on in. The boys are cooking with tequila." She lifted a glass in a toast. "Or cooking on tequila."

Vince Peake smiled at Rick. "Alexis took us to a Mexican place in Nuevo York. Not bad, but not like the good stuff that Tuco and Flaco can cook."

"My _mamacita_ insisted that I know how to cook if I was going in the Army. She said I'd never get any real food otherwise." Flaco said.

Peake handed both Rick and Kate bottles of beer. " _Cervesas por ustedes_. It's Corona beer. Pretty good."

"Better than no beer at all." Said the African American.

Flaco looked up at them. "We're making some of the usual Tex-Mex tourist type foods, tacos, burritos and such. But we'll make you some _machaca_ , _birria_ , and _menudo_. "He turned to Peake. "Doc, _tu cuchillo, por favor_? "

Doc removed a good sized knife from his boot top and handed it over. He looked sheepishly at Rick and Kate. "I'm a combat medic. I have to cut away clothing, web gear and all kinds of shit. And it can be used as a scalpel."

"Useful on cardiac surgeons?" Kate muttered, but everyone was too busy with the cooking to notice.

Alexis and her friends told Martha, Rick and Kate to go enjoy their drinks while they cooked. Rick and Kate snuggled up together. "You said one of them called Alexis Doc's girlfriend?" He whispered in her ear."

"I don't think it's gone that far, yet. But you never know. He's not like any of Alexis' other boyfriends."

Rick nodded glumly. "I'll say he's not. I'm not going to have much luck intimidating him, am I?"

Kate laughed. "Oh, if you get me, Espo, Ryan, LT and a few others, we might just attract his attention. As long as he doesn't have any of his friends with him, that is."

Everyone admitted the meal was fantastic. As they ate, the Rangers told mostly funny stories about their service and when the meal was over, they did the dishes and put them away.

Later that night Rick and Kate cuddled in bed together. "Something wrong, babe?"

Castle said nothing for a while. "I was just getting used to Alexis having boyfriends. Now Alexis has men friends. I don't think Vince Peake will be the one, but sooner or later, she's going to meet a man and they'll fall in love and my little girl will be gone."

Kate kissed him. "Let me tell you something. I'm still my dad's little girl and I always will be. Don't worry."

"I will you know. But what if she ends up marrying a male version of Meredith? Oh, god. What an awful thought. I couldn't stand it."

"We're lucky that Alexis is the smart one in the family. She'd never marry anyone anything like Meredith."

Castle stared at the ceiling for a few minutes. "Alexis is very lucky to have you as a mom."

That stunned Kate. "You think she sees me as a mother figure?"

"Not as a mother figure, but as her mom. You're a better mom than either Meredith or Gina ever were. I just wish I'd married you the night we met."

Kate giggled. "Instead of "Where do you want it" you'd have said, "Will you marry me?" Be serious, Castle."

"I am. Oh, I know, it might have taken me a while to get you to see things my way, but we could have been married within a year or so of meeting. "

Kate laughed, kissed Rick and laughed some more. "Good night, Mr. Castle. "

The next morning Ryan and Espo were waiting for the Castles.

"We may have one. A guy named Eduardo Nunez heard we're looking for anyone who knows about the killing of the three cops. His sister called us just ten minutes ago and wants to set up a meet."

"Where?" Kate asked,

"Spanish Harlem. The bad part."

"There's a good part of Spanish Harlem?" Castle asked.

"Creeping gentrification, bro. Old buildings are being torn down and new condos going up. Trendy clubs and boutiques are opening up for hip young Manhattanites. Someday soon, the only crimes in Spanish Harlem will be income tax evasion and insider trading."

"The mind boggles." Castle said, shaking his head with mock sadness.

Two patrol cars met them at Nunez's apartment building. Another was out back in case he decided to run and not talk.

"You guys know Nunez?" Kate asked the uniforms.

"Long time heroin addict. Been fairly clean for the last year. Gets methadone at a local clinic, but he's broke, in his late forties, a high school dropout with no job skills. Hard for a guy like that to stay clean."

"Some do. Maybe he's a lucky one."

They went to the third floor and knocked on the door. A rather disheveled looking woman answered. "You the cops? You're too damned late. Too damned late."

"Where is he?" Beckett demanded, pushing her way into the apartment.

"Bedroom." The woman pointed.

They found Nunez sprawled on his bed, alive, but seriously stoned. A candle, a spoon, syringe and a bag of white powder was on a table beside him.

"Call an ambulance. Get CSU over here." Kate snapped. "We'll arrest him for possession and take him to the hospital."

The sister reached for her brother.

"Don't touch him. Everything is evidence."

"I just want to get his wallet. He has money. He owes me."

"Wait? A heroin addict who didn't spend all of his money on smack? Where did he get it from?"

"Do I get his money?" The sister looked stubborn.

"How much does he owe you?"

The woman shrugged. "He has about thirty dollars on him. Maybe a bit more. I've been supporting him. It's mine." She whined.

"Castle, do you have a fifty?"

"For you, Beckett, of course." Castle waggled his eyebrows.

Kate glared at him. "For her."

Castle sighed dramatically. "She's not really my type."

The glare got more intense and Castle handed over a fifty.

The woman tucked the bill in her bra. "A man called Ricky Perez came by. He was Eduardo's dealer in the old days. He said he wanted to see how Eduardo was. I thought Eduardo was clean and I needed to go to the _tienda_ , the store. When I came back just five minutes ago, Eduardo was like this."

One of the uniforms spoke up. "We know this guy Perez. He's got a regular street corner not two blocks from here. This time of day, he's either on the corner, dealing, or he's at a little bodega to have a beer and some snacks."

The four police cars pulled up at the corner to find a smiling Ricky Perez waiting for them. "Good afternoon, officers. Isn't this a fine day? And how are you?"

Espo braced Perez against his car. "We got a tip that you gave some heroin to a guy."

"Me? Give drugs to someone? Never happen. Please, search me. You'll find I have no drugs."

Epso took him at his word and searched him. "He's clean." He said angrily when he was done.

Perez looked around. "So, I got no drugs on me and you got someone says I have drugs to someone? Doesn't sound like much of a case to me."

"Read him his rights." Kate told Espo. "We'll take him downtown and see if he remembers anything."

Perez immediately asked for an attorney who told his client to say nothing. And nothing is what he said.

After the interrogation, such as it was, Beckett talked to Captain Gates. "Ms. Nunez left before Perez went into the bedroom, so she can't testify that she saw Perez give her brother any drugs. Nunez can testify, but all we have is the word of an addict against a convicted drug dealer. The DA is never going to prosecute that. What worries me is who sent Perez to give the drugs to Nunez. The sister called the station precinct this morning to set up the meet. That means there were only a few hours for someone to find out that Nunez wanted to talk about our case and get Perez over to shut him up for a while."

"You think we have a leak?" Gates said with a frown.

"Sounds reasonable."

"Talk to the sister again and then talk to Nunez when he's down from his high. Maybe we can figure something out."

Rick and Kate interrogated the sister who was no help. She insisted that her brother had come in late last night saying he had information that the police might want and wanted his sister to call the police the next morning to set up a meet. She stuck to that story and Rick and Kate gave up.

They were met by Ryan and Espo when they had released Ms. Nunez. "Bad news. Eduardo Nunez died in the ER. We asked Lanie to do the autopsy, but I'll bet she finds that he was given pure smack. Strong enough to kill him."

Kate gathered her team at her desk. "I talked to Gates earlier. I think someone in the department tipped off whoever was taking money from the drug dealers back in the day. That someone moved quickly to silence Eduardo Nunez."

"Dirty cops still at it?" Ryan said. "That sucks."

"Just keep your mouths closed about every part of this case. Don't even talk about it unless you're sure no one can over hear you, and….."Bugs." Kate shook her head. "We could be bugged. Find a bug sweeper and check your phones, your police cells and your personal cells. And check around your desks. I'll go tell Gates what's going on."

"Beckett, I know a guy."

"You always know a guy, Castle." She said with a smile.

"You have Espo going around looking for bugs, it'll be all over the precinct and then all over the NYPD. I know a guy that can do the sweep and keep it on the down low."

"How soon?"

"It would be better if we did it tonight, after most people have left."

Much later, there were only two other detectives in the bullpen, laboriously typing out reports using only two fingers. The elevator door opened and a young man with several bags of food stepped out.

"Hi, Mr. Castle. Working late tonight?"

"Afraid so, Jerry." Castle smiled.

"Bad for you, but good for my dad, I guess. There are just the six of you here? I gotta lot of food."

Beckett turned to the other two detectives. "Guys, Castle bought us some late night snacks. Want some?"

Nobody had to ask them twice and the six all gathered at Beckett's desk for some very good gourmet sandwiches, potato salad, and cookies.

"Um, Detective Beckett?" Jerry asked. "Can I use the bathroom?"

"Sure, the closest one is down the hallway there. And we have lots of food, you can stay for some, I hope."

Jerry quickly set up his gear in a stall in the men's room and checked for bugs. And bugs he found. He came back, enjoyed his meal and then sat with Kate and her team.

"You have bugs in your landline, but that's it. Your cells are okay and there are no bugs anywhere else on this floor. I'll check your cars when I leave and call Mr. Castle."

"Should we take out the bugs?" Rick asked.

Jerry shook his head. "If you take them out, they'll know you're onto them. Better leave them in and don't say anything you don't want other people to know. They may get suspicious, but that's better than broadcasting what you're doing."

Jerry called later to tell Castle that the cars were clear, but told Castle he'd leave some high tech bug detectors at the loft for him and Kate and for Ryan and Esposito. He also suggested that he check the loft and both Ryan and Esposito's places. But, the only bugs found were in the detective's landlines at the precinct.

"So what's that mean?" Rick asked Jerry the next evening at the loft.

"Probably not a full blown professional job. They were in a hurry. But, I did check the bugs, left them in place, of course. They're Chinese made and expensive, and the Chinese sell them directly to their customers. No way to get the Chinese to identify who those were sold to."

"That sounds professional to me." Kate said.

"I'd guess whoever did it had an access problem. Couldn't get in your home or at your cell phones because you have your phones with you all the time. I'm a little surprised they didn't bug your cars. But maybe they just haven't gotten around to it. Keep checking with the bug detectors I gave you."

Once Jerry had left, Kate took Rick's hand. "We've known all along that this was about dirty cops, babe."

He nodded slowly. "I just hate to think someone could get access like that."

"You can get in the precinct without going past the desk sergeant if you're a cop and know what you're doing. Then, just show up during the graveyard shift, and pretend to leave notes on our desks while you plant the bugs. If no one's around, you don't even have to pretend."

The next morning they got to work early and found Ryan and Esposito trying not to stare at the closed door to Gates' office.

"We have company, bro."


	11. Chapter 11

Who Are You?

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Not mine, right? Rating: M, occasionally. Time: Season Seven.

 **Chapter Eleven**

Before Rick or Kate could ask anything more from Ryan or Esposito, Gate's opened the door to her office. "Detective Beckett, will you please bring your team in here?"

Gates' visitor was a tall man, greying at the temples, well tanned, in good shape and very well dressed. Castle especially noticed that the suit he wore was hand made and of very good quality. He also caught the Rolex on the man's wrist.

"Captain McCarty, this is Detective Kate Beckett and her team, Detectives Ryan and Esposito and Mr. Castle. This is Captain Brian McCarty."

McCarty smiled and shook everyone's hand with a firm, but not too firm a grip. "I'm not a captain anymore, so Captain Gates is just being polite. It's Mr. McCarty now. I left the job three years ago."

"Where did you go?" Castle asked,

"Like all sensible born and bred New Yorkers, I retired to Miami. I opened a small security company, and I have to admit, I've done alright."

"Now Captain McCarty is being modest. He has a security contract for a dozen Native American casinos. They're very big and very lucrative. Not just casinos but hotels, restaurants, golf courses, swimming pools, the works."

McCarty blushed slightly under his tan. "I guess I've been lucky. And it's not just casinos, I manage security for a couple of high end communities in South Florida."

"I imagine you didn't drop by to tell us all about your successful new life, did you?" Kate asked.

McCarty laughed. "She gets right to the point, doesn't she Victoria? I like that in a detective. "He turned to face Kate. "I'm here for a number of reasons. First I want to apologize for the behavior of my nephew, Sergeant Michael McCarty. I heard that he came in here very angry about reopening the case. He's always been very sensitive about what happened with Henry, but that's no excuse for what he did. You have a murder. Naturally you have to investigate.And since the dead drug dealer was found in the same building where three cops were killed, you have to look for a connection. And you have to look for Henry. I understand that, but I'm afraid Michael and a few other members of the family don't. I'm sorry."

Kate shrugged. "We're not doing our job if we don't piss off some people sometimes."

McCarty laughed. "She doesn't mind pissing people off, either. You have a good one here, Victoria." The laugh faded and McCarty was serious. "But there's something else. Mike, Sergeant McCarty, picked up a rumor that Henry was involved in the death of the drug dealer. Maybe involved in the death of those cops. Basically, that he was dirty." He looked at Beckett expectantly.

She shrugged. "We've heard the same rumor. And that's all it is right now, a rumor. We've looked into everyone connected with Moncrief, the dead dealer and with anyone connected with the dead cops or with McCarty. But after all those years, there's not much information there. You were on the job. You know how it is." McCarty nodded. "If he had ripped off a drug dealer, it could explain why we're having so much trouble finding him. Then again, he could be dirt poor, have a new identity and be bartending in East Jesus, Texas. A cop would know how to disappear with no trace."

"I just hate to think of Henry being involved in anything like that. I mean it's be bad enough that everyone thinks he's a coward, but….." McCarty shook his head sadly. "Do you think that's why IA is interested in this? They think Henry was dirty?"

"You'll have to ask IA about that. As usual that's strictly need to know and no one outside of IA ever needs to know what they know. If you have access to people we don't. I'd love to know what IA knows that we don't. If they actually know anything."

"Sorry. Even when I was a captain, I didn't have any suction with IA. But, I have another question. There's some undercover Fed working this with you. What do the Feds have to do with this?"

Kate glared, quite nicely. "The Feds are even more closed mouth than IA. He got dumped on us and so far he's done nothing. Hell, he hasn't been around for what…"She looked at Castle. "Four days?"

"Five." Rick replied. "As a guess, if the Feds have something, it's only tangentially related to our case. I think he figured out we have nothing of use to him and is off on his own."

"Fine with me if he stays that way." Espo said. "I don't like having to deal with Feds and their superiority complex, but this guy…"

"Detective Esposito." Gates said in a warning tone of voice.

"Makes IA look like a bunch of incurable chatterboxes." Espo finished, with a sour look on his face.

McCarty stood up. "I apologize again for what Michael did. I'd tell you that he's sorry and won't do it again, but I'd be lying. He's a stubborn man."

He shook hands again and left.

As Kate was getting ready to leave, Gates spoke. "Detective Beckett, do you have anything at all concerning this case that would explain what just happened?"

"Sir?" Kate said, confused.

"It's not that long a flight from Miami and he does have family here, but isn't it a bit odd that he'd come all this was to deliver a second hand apology and ask us about the investigation?"

Kate thought for a moment. "I have no ideas at all, sir."

"Well, I wish someone would find out more about Mr. McCarty."

When they got back to Kate's desk, Castle looked at the three detectives. "Did anyone else get an odd vibe from Gates' last comment?"

"What do you mean, bro? Like when she looked at the only non-cop in the room who has a reputation for knowing people who can get information without things like warrants?" Espo shook his head. "I didn't get a vibe like that at all."

Kate took his hand. "You don't have to do anything if you don't want to, babe."

"Yeah, but I want to." He stood up. "I think I need to make a phone call. I think I should make it all by myself. Outside. Be back in ten."

It was three days before the phone call paid off.

"I have to go to lunch. Be back in a couple of hours." He told his wife.

"You're not springing for lunch for us?" Ryan asked.

"It would be better if I didn't involve you guys in this. I'll be back and…."

Kate grabbed his wrist. "I'm going with you."

"Kate. You really don't need to and…."

"I'm your wife and I'm going." She turned to her detectives. "If Gates asks where we are, tell her we're out not looking into any ex-cops who live in Florida."

Castle admitted defeat and the two left the bullpen. Once outside Castle's car service had a car waiting for them.

"Are you taking me to someplace that nice, or is this for security?"

"Security, but the place is pretty nice."

They were driven to a neighborhood delicatessen in Brooklyn. I was pretty full, but they were waved to a table in the back by a skinny older man in sunglasses and a ball cap. "Try the pastrami, Ricky. It's the best." He said as they sat. "And you brought your wife?"

"Don't worry. She won't tell on us." Rick said with a smile.

"I never thought she would, Glad to meet you, Mrs. Castle. Call me Slick Willie. I'm the _original_ Slick Willie."

The waitress brought them food and the three ate. When they were done, Slick Willie passed a manila file to them. "I'll give you the high spots. When McCarty was on the job, he had a house in the price range of a captain. Same with his cars. One for him, one for the wife. When the kids got into high school, she got a part time job at the school, mostly to have something to do, I think. I can't say they needed the money that bad. As for the usual problems, sex, drugs, and gambling, nothing. So him, his wife and the kids look good. Oh, that's not to say the kids never smoked a joint, or that neither of them might have fooled around, but there's no evidence that shows a problem. Basically a cop living on his salary."

"And after he retired?" Kate asked.

"Moved to Florida. And got lucky."

"How lucky?" Both Rick and Kate asked.

"He opened a little security company just as one of the big Indian casinos found out that their own security company was allowing the employees to skim cash in return for a cut. Now the other casino security companies were pretty tight with each other, so McCarty's big draw was that he wasn't local and all tied up with the local firms. He got a job right out of bed with the biggest casino in Florida and hasn't looked back. Pretty soon he had he had security contracts for all the big Indian casinos and was doing good. Really good. The man is a millionaire many times over, almost as rich as Ricky here."

"Casinos are famous for laundering money." Kate said. "Any sign he might be laundering money?"

Slick Willie shrugged. "Not from what I have. I can't just hack into his financial records for something like that. If you really want me to find out, I'd need to go to Florida and look around. Probably take a couple of months. I'd be happy to go."

Rick and Kate exchanged glances. "Nothing sticks out in his Florida finances?" Rick asked.

Slick Willie shook his head. "Again, no sign he's living beyond his considerable means, and no sign of any financial problems."

"You'll have to go to Florida on your own, Willie." Castle said with a smile.

"Might just do that come winter."

When they got back to the precinct, Castle went to talk to Gates, alone.

"Sir," He said, closing the door. "Can I talk to you… Um, about a friend of mine? I've been….helping him straighten out his finances. I thought…."

Captain Gates held up her hand to stop him. "Mr. Castle, I'm not going to rat you out and I'm sure you won't rat me out, so why don't you just tell me what you found out about Mr. McCarty?"

Castle made a choking sound, then told Gates what Slick Willie had found out.

"So, there's no evidence that McCarty is in any way dirty?" She asked.

"Which is not to say that we've proved he's one hundred per cent clean. Remember, that we were told that the bosses were smart. They were going to keep the money safely hidden away until after they retired. And McCarty's work with the casinos is perfect if he can find someone to help him launder the money. And since he managed to get rich pretty much on his own, he doesn't have to launder millions all at once. Plus, he can invite his accomplices to work for him in Florida when they retire, and launder their money as well. Assuming he's at all dirty."

Gates stared out the window. "So, we're no closer to finding our dirty cops than before." Gates looked at Castle. "Thank you, Mr. Castle. You've proven quite useful to Detective Beckett's team." Seeing Castle smile, she quickly added. "And you still have the ability to infuriate me on a daily basis."

The smile faded quickly. "I'll try to do better, sir. I mean, not to bother you…..Not that I'd do better at infuriating….."

Gates just pointed to the door.

Rick told Kate and her detectives what had happened with Gates.

"I don't think she's ready to join the Rick Castle fan club." Kate teased.

"I have all the detectives I need from the 12th in my fan club already. And, I'm the president of the Detective Kate Beckett fan club."

Kate laughed. "We may have to have a fan club meeting when we get home."

"Could you two knock it off?" Ryan Said. "Karpowski just called. She thinks we'll want in on the body drop she just got."

Karpowski and her team and Perlmutter were at the crime scene as CSU techs went about their business. Kate and her team ducked under the crime scene tape and walked down an alley.

"Are we sure it's him?" Kate asked.

Karpowski nodded. "The beat cops ID'd him and told us you'd been interested in him for your little IA case. You gonna tell me what this is all about? I am a homicide detective, remember? I might be of some help to you on this one."

Kate wearily shook her head. "Believe me, Roz. You do _not_ want in on this one. Hell, I don't want in on it. So, we've confirmed he's Ricky Perez, our friendly local drug dealer, who helped Mr. Nunez into the next world?"

"That's what the beat cops and his driver's license say. Care to take a look?"

Kate zipped down the body bag and nodded. "It's him." She turned to Perlmutter. "Cause and time of death?"

"COD is a GSW to the back of the head. He was shot by a silenced .22 caliber Ruger automatic pistol with a suppressor on it. No one would have heard the sound of the shot more than twenty feet away."

"Very good, Perlmutter." Castle said. "You wouldn't want to become a detective and work for me, would you?"

"Not if my immortal soul depended on it, Castle. The uniforms found the weapon at the end of the alley and I wrote the information down for my report. As for time of death, I'll know more when I get him to the morgue, but a prelim time of death would be between 1AM and 5AM. Oh, no signs of a struggle or any defensive wounds."

Kate looked around the alley. "So he met with someone he knew and trusted, walked down the alley, and our killer put a round in his head, tossed the piece and kept going." She turned to Karpowski. "Keep us informed of what you find, Roz. And thanks for letting us in on this one."

"Always glad to help out."

But Roz was not much help. Her detectives found no witnesses and there were no security or traffic cams for blocks. CSU had found no evidence at all in the alley that they could connect to the murder and the gun was clean of prints or DNA. The gun itself had been stolen from a delivery truck going to a sporting goods store in Kansas six years previously. A ballistics test showed it wasn't in the system.

"We have nothing." Kate said to Roz when she was done.

"A professional job is my opinion."

Kate took the copy of Roz's report and put it with a growing stack on her desk. "Thanks. Maybe we can find this guy from my end."

Roz leaned in. "Um, anything yet on what I mentioned about a certain guy who hangs around here?"

Kate shook her head. "He doesn't even hang around here much anymore. We haven't seen him in over a week. Gates was contacting the Feds, but if she's heard back, she isn't sharing."

Another day went by.

"Guess who wants to come in today and make a statement?" Ryan asked.

"Elmer Fudd." Castle said quickly. "He finally did in that wascally wabbit."

Kate didn't even bother to glare. "I don't have to guess because my detective will tell me. If he knows what's good for him."

"Okay, it's the Izquerida kids. And their lawyers, of course. Michael is in law school and his sister, Anita, is in college."

"Why do they want to make a statement?" Kate asked.

Ryan shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine. But they called Gates and asked if they could come in after lunch."

"Okay, Castle and I will take the boy and you and Javi interview the girl. That way we can compare their stories later."

The two Izqueridas and four lawyers arrived after lunch. Michael looked perfectly relaxed, although as a law student he should have looked relaxed. His sister, Anita, looked unhappy, but maybe that was because she'd rather be shopping on Fifth Avenue. The four lawyers all had matching sour expressions, tending towards glum.

Kate explained that they would interview the two separately.

Before the lawyers could say anything, Michael Izquerida spoke. "That's fine with us. Why don't Mr. Holland and Ms. Crane come with me? Will you be okay with the other two, Anita?"

Anita just nodded.

Once in interrogation, Kate introduced herself and Rick.

"Mr. Castle is not a police officer. He's a civilian writer. If any of this winds up in one of his novels about some over sexed cop, we'll sue." Holland said quickly.

"Mr. Castle is a civilian investigator with the NYPD. He has every right to be here. "Kate said coldly.

"Have you ever heard the term _roman a clef_?" Castle asked with a smile.

"I have. It's a form of a novel that takes real situations and disguises them as fiction. Your Nikki Heat novels are an example."

Rick nodded, still smiling. "A better example might be _Primary Colors._ Everyone knows the book is about the Clintons and their first campaign for the Presidency. Just about every character in the book, or the movie, has a counterpart in real life. But, should the Clintons decide to sue for defamation, they couldn't. Because, no matter what people _think_ it's about, it's really about a fictional governor named Jack Stanton. Do you understand me?"

"I'm not afraid of…."

"Having your client look very bad in a best selling novel when you have zero chance of suing successfully?"

"Mr. Holland!" Michael Izquerida broke in. "We didn't come here to start a fight with anyone. I came to discuss the events of September 24, 2000. Which is all that I have any personal knowledge of. May I continue?"

"Please do." Kate said.

"My father, my mother, my sister and I were driving to church when we were pulled over by three cops in two cars. They were all in uniform and their cars were standard NYPD patrol cars. They had us get out of the car and go into a parking garage. They handcuffed my father's hands behind and opened the trunk, which was empty. Finding it empty, they demanded money from my father. Lots of money. They also hit my father, slapped my mother and called her a whore. One of them pointed a gun at me when he saw I was looking at his name tag. His name was Borelli. He said I was a punk and my sister would be a whore just like my mom. Anita was crying. I don't know how much she heard or understood, since she was very scared. Another one, a sergeant with three gold stripes on his shirt told Anita and me that if we ever said a word about what happened, we'd regret it. And our parents would regret it. Then they let us all go. Yesterday, I looked at photos of the three officers that were murdered in the building where you found Mr. Moncrief. I'm positive that those three are the same three officers that stopped us. That's all I know and all I can tell you."

"Mr. Izquerida, may I ask why you came in today? The men who assaulted you are long dead." Kate asked.

"I'll soon be an attorney. Naturally, I want to do anything I can do to see that justice is done."

"And I'm sure you'll be happy to do anything you can to blacken the names of the three officers and the NYPD in general." Castle added.

He glared at Castle. "My sister cried and had trouble sleeping for months. I used to hold her and tell her everything would be okay. She didn't really know what a whore was, but she knew it was bad and she didn't want to have to become one like that cop said. For all that they did, those cops deserve to rot in hell and they sure don't deserve to be considered heroes." He stood up. "That's the extent of my statement. We're done here."

"One more thing, Mr. Izquerida." Kate asked. "How did you know that we were interested in those officers' deaths?"

Izquerida chuckled. "You asked half the people in that neighborhood about the late Mr. Moncrief and the death of those cops. People know how my family feels about those crooked cops. We got lots of phone calls."

When both interviews were over, they all met in Gates' office. "We've gone over both statements from the Izqueridas and they match. Ms. Izquerida's statement is less complete, but she was younger and more upset. And, basically, we got nothing we didn't already know."

"Except that now, if nothing happens with the investigation, the Izqueridas can tell the world that the NYPD had them in to talk about the three dead cops and were told they were dirty. And that the NYPD never denied they were dirty. That would make the Izqueridas happy."

"Um, Captain Gates, would you like me to….look into the Izqueridas for you?" Castle asked.

Gates shook her head. "No, Mr. Castle, but thank you for offering. What we know now is that the still living Izquerida family members are actually legitimate businessmen and businesswomen." Gates suddenly looked out of her office towards the elevator. "Oh, lord, what's wrong now?"

Lieutenant Bergdahl stormed into Gates' office and slammed the door behind her. "What the hell have you idiots done now?"

'


	12. Chapter 12

Who Are You?

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: Who owns Castle? Not I. Rating: M, in spots. Time: Season seven, more or less.

 **Chapter Twelve**

Bergdahl practically dragged Kate and her team into Gates' office.

"Gates, what the hell has your gigantic cluster fuck of a team done now?"

Gates replied angrily. "They've been doing their jobs under very difficult circumstances. And please remember that the last time you blamed something on me and my people, it was the folks in One PP who were responsible. Now what's the problem?"

Bergdahl looked like she was ready to explode, but managed to control her temper. "I just got a call from the US Attorney. To say Mr. Cruz-Reynoso is not happy would be a colossal understatement. He wants to see us now and he acted like we'd all be leaving in handcuffs. We need to go now." Bergdahl turned on her heel and left. Gates, Kate and her team went after her, but let her get on the elevator by herself.

"So any of you have any idea what this is about?" Gates asked once in the precinct's garage.

They all shook their heads. "Not a clue." Espo said.

Rick and Kate got into her car. "I really can't think of anything we've done that might piss the Feds off. Maybe letting Johnson out of our sight? But it's not like we can just toss him in holding whenever we feel like it."

Kate smiled at the thought of trying to toss Johnson into holding against his will, especially if Bergdahl were to try to do it. "We'll find out soon enough."

For a man with a rather dark complexion, Cruz-Reynoso was a lovely shade of purple when they were all shown into his office.

Bergdahl took the offensive at once. "'Sir, on behalf of the NYPD I'd like to apologize for whatever it was that Captain Gates' people did and I assure you that it will not happen again. I've decided that Internal Affairs will handle this completely as I had suggested in the beginning. Now, sir…."

"Internal Affairs!" Bellowed Cruz-Reynoso. "I got a call for the Attorney General himself. He'd gotten a call from Senator Bollinger who had been called by the Mayor of New York about a report he'd gotten from the god damned NYPD Internal Affairs. And you want IA to handle this? Are you out of your mind?"

Bergdahl was obviously stunned. Her mouth was wide open but nothing was coming out.

Cruz-Reynoso went on, slightly less angrily. "I have talked to the mayor. Captain Gates is now in charge of this case, reporting directly to the Chief of Police and no one else. Since Internal Affairs' part in this is now over, you may leave. Now!"

Still stunned, Bergdahl left. Everyone did their best to remain completely stone faced.

Cruz-Reynoso turned to Captain Gates. "For your information the whole story about a hired gun, and a DEA death squad, is nothing but a god damned urban legend. And it's a legend we've been trying very, very hard to kill. And now it's popped up here in New York and we have to start debunking it all over again. When you return to your precinct, Captain Gates, I'd suggest you have one of your people look at online editions of newspapers for the last six months or so. You can start in Brownsville, Texas and go all the way to San Diego, California. You can even have your people look at Mexican newspapers from Matamoros, all the way to Tijuana. And do you know what they'll find? Not one god damned word about any US agents being kidnapped and left dead in the US. Or any headless Mexicans, or any other kind of dead Mexicans, found just inside Mexico. Because there aren't any. The last US agent to get killed on the border was a Border Patrol officer who was killed four months ago when he ran into some drug smugglers. And before that an ATF officer was killed by some nut in El Paso who was manufacturing his own machine guns. If I hear one more word about this non-existent DEA gunman, I will personally arrest you and this entire team for something. I'll find something in the god damned laws to charge you with if it kills me. Do you understand?"

Everyone nodded and agreed whole heartedly that they would never say another word about this.

Cruz-Reynoso smiled. It was not a reassuring smile. More like one a hungry tiger might smile upon finding a tender young goat. "Now, for the cherry on the crap sundae that's been my day. Against everyone's advice, Senator Bollinger feels that Detective Beckett and her team need to know all about Mr. McCarty, AKA Mr. Johnson. It seems Bollinger won his first election to the city council when Beckett arrested the woman he was running against and then opened a spot in the US Senate for him by arresting Bracken. So, go right through that door. McCarty is waiting for you."

The five walked through the door to find McCarty sitting behind a desk with his booted feet on the desk. He turned the intercom off. "That Cruz-Reynoso can get a bit hot, can't he?" He said with a laugh. "Well, ladies and gentlemen, sit down and be prepared to listen to more of the long, sad tale of Hank McCarty's life."

McCarty waited until they were all seated and began. "When last we met, I was telling you I was at One PP, shuffling paper in Personnel because the NYPD had decided that I was a coward. I volunteered for everything the NYPD had. SWAT, hostage negotiations, the air unit, the harbor unit, everything I could think of. I went to a range in New Jersey that had a combat firing range set up and practiced relentlessly. I also found an ex-Marine sniper there who taught me the basics of being a sniper. I qualified as a SCUBA diver and got an EMT ticket and every time I applied for something, I got called into the captain's office and told that I was never leaving Personnel. Ever."

McCarty laughed. "I did leave Personnel, though. On 9/11. I got to put on my blues and go out and be a cop again. And then it was over and I was back to being Mr. Personnel again."

He looked off into the distance as if trying to remember something. "There are three kinds of people at One PP. Some people love it because they're at the center of the action. They dream of being the power behind the throne someday. Some people love it because they can be a cop, retire after twenty and not have to put up with all of the crap that real cops take. The third kind are mostly like my boss, Captain Schirmer. They hate it. He fell off his granddaughter's first big girl bike trying to show her how to ride it and smashed his hip. He got sent to Personnel so he could do one more year and then retire. And then there was me. I hated being at One PP because I actually wanted to be cop."

McCarty stopped and stared off into space again. "The human mind is odd. When I first got to Personnel, I was positive I wasn't a coward. I dug up all of the reports I could find on the shooting and went over them with a fine toothed comb. Naturally, I didn't find anything that proved I wasn't a coward. I went to the neighborhood where it happened. That was a big help. I'd walk into a store to ask questions and all of a sudden there were a half a dozen gang bangers there and the guy in the store remembered absolutely nothing. And there was this constant little itch in the back of my mind, saying that maybe I was a coward. That all those people were right and I was wrong. Maybe I had run away and my mind was filling in a reasonable explanation so I wouldn't have to face the fact that I was a coward. Those little voices in the back of your mind can be very persistent. I kept asking myself why would three experienced cops faced with a possible guy with a gun send me off for a damned ice cream? Now, I know why they did it, but I didn't back then. The thought that I really was a coward and just refused to accept it stayed in my mind." He slowly shook his head. "Like I said, the human mind can be funny."

"I never ate in the cafeteria at One PP. The place was full of cops, after all, and too damned many of them felt they had to say something to me or about me. So, at lunch time, I'd get on the subway and ride for a few stops and see what kind of food was available. Food with no cops around. I had found this really nice deli and started eating there a lot. One day, I was sitting at a table by the window and I saw a group of young men going into the building across the street. Now this area was strictly a business suits area, real upscale. These guys were out of place. I was about to go over and see if anything was wrong when I saw two Marines walk out, all in their dress blues. After I ate, I walked across the street. Sure enough, the building had an armed forces recruitment station. I went home and did a little research. The next day I went to the recruiting station intending to enlist in the Marines. But, all the Marines were out at some kind of career day or something. I talked to an Army recruiter who wanted to put me in the military police. I turned him down flat. I wanted to be an infantryman. And I wanted to go to Airborne School and the Ranger School. He signed me right up. As soon as I got my orders for Fort Benning, I resigned from the NYPD."

"No one asked you where you were going or why?" Kate asked.

"No one cared." Was the reply. "I got through Infantry School with no problem. I already had all kinds of training they were giving me. I got though Airborne School with no problem and went off the Ranger School."

"Been there and done that." Espo said.

"I know you have." McCarty replied. "I looked into all of your backgrounds. But, to continue, I made it through six weeks of the eight week course and broke my right wrist. I was told that I could re-apply to the school once my physical profile was okay. I was asked if I'd like a transfer to the 173rd Airborne Brigade. The war in Afghanistan had been going on for a year and a bit, but it looked like another one was about to start in Iraq. To make a long story short, I jumped into Iraq on March 23, 2003. I'd finally be able to tell if I was a coward or not."

"We all know you're not." Rick said.

"Yeah, now." McCarty laughed. "My nickname was "Crazy". I was determined to make sure I wasn't a coward even if it killed me. I always wanted to take point and do whatever dumb ass, dangerous thing that needed to be done. I did my tour in the Sandbox and then did another in A-Stan, then in 2006, I found myself at the end of my enlistment and had to decide what to do."

"You got a job somewhere with the Feds?" Kate suggested.

McCarty shook his head. "I reenlisted. I was pretty sure I'd never get a job in law enforcement even with my military background, and to be honest I was pissed off at the police in general and I felt at home in the Army. My nickname is still "Crazy". I went back and got in the Rangers, then Special Forces and now I'm Sergeant First Class Henry McCarty, Special Forces Operational Detachment-Delta."

"You're one of the D-Boys?" Espo asked, obviously impressed.

"So they say. I was busy in the KRG, Kurdistan Regional Government, hunting for high value targets of the Islamic State in Iraq and Syria. Oh, the part about being in Syria is not to leave this room. You can see why I was unhappy to be dragged out of a job that needed doing by some Senator to help the NYPD solve some old murders. The IS is doing more murders than that every fifteen minutes or so."

"You haven't been around the precinct lately, Sergeant." Gates said, "Does that mean you have no interest in our case?"

"Not at all. I've been working with some other agencies to see if I can resolve your problem and get back to my job. I may have something for you in a couple of days." McCarty got up and headed for another door. "I'd suggest you go out this door and not go back through Cruz-Reynoso's office. He'll probably be mad at you for another year or so."

When they got to the elevator, McCarty was gone already.

Castle was very curious. "Captain, did you manage to work around IA to get Bergdahl kicked off this case?"

Gates stared at Castle until the elevator door opened on the ground floor. "Mr. Castle, are you actually suggesting that I would use and abuse my position to undermine the chain of command?"

Castle swallowed hastily. "Of course not. Never crossed my mind. It would never….I mean, I know that…."

Gates left the elevator and stared at Castle. "Mr. Castle, do you really think that I got this job solely because of my beauty and charm?" She winked at him and walked off to her car.

"I never thought I'd see that." Ryan said.

"Makes two of us, bro."

Once in Kate's car, Castle turned to her. "Who do you think she called? Someone at One PP? The Mayor or Senator Bollinger? The Attorney General? Who?"

Kate shook her head. "I have no idea and we'll probably never find out. But we do know now that you're not the only person who knows a guy."

Back at the precinct they gathered around Kate's desk to discuss what had just happened. Kate summed it up. "In spite of the changes in command, we're no closer than we were yesterday to figuring this out. We have suspects and nothing that connects them to either of the murders. And we haven't positively ruled anyone out yet."

"Kate," Rick said softly, "We knew how hard it would be to solve a murder this old. The chances of finding witnesses, physical evidence or…"

"I know. I know. I hate not solving cases. I hate knowing there's a killer out there who's gotten away with murder."

"Maybe Johnson will come up with something. "Ryan said, reverting back to McCarty's cover name. "I'll bet he knows guys, too. Probably some that even Castle doesn't know." He turned to Javi. "You seemed really impressed with that guy. Is he that bad ass?"

Espo nodded. "Delta is what they call a tier one unit. Tier two are the Army Rangers, Navy SEALS, Army Special Forces, Air Force and Marine Special Ops. Delta and the Navy's Seal Team Six, or DEVGRU, the tier one units, recruit from there. So you're recruiting from the top one percent of the military and taking maybe one percent of that. They're the elite of the elite. I've known good Special Forces people who washed out of Delta training. It's not just physically tough, you have to be smart enough to learn all kinds of crap: Intelligence stuff, weapons of all sorts, languages, cultures, and you have to think on your feet a lot. They do exactly what Johnson said they do, a lot of anti-terrorism work outside of the US. The man is as bad ass as they come."

"Which still doesn't solve our problem." Kate reminded everyone. She looked at her watch. "It's late. We'll go home and get a good night's rest. Maybe we'll come up with something then."

When they got home, they found Alexis pushing some warmed up left overs around her plate with little enthusiasm.

"Hi, Pumpkin. I can make you some real dinner if you'd like."

She shook her head. "I'm not really hungry. But, thanks."

"Bad day at school? Would ice cream help?"

"School was fine. I had lunch with Vince today. It didn't go well."

Castle was torn. Vince Peake was not the type of man he wanted Alexis to be with, he was entirely too dangerous and in way too dangerous a line of work. On the other hand, he hated to see Alexis upset.

"What happened, Alexis?" Kate asked, sitting down next to the redhead.

"Vince is smart, but he's always been an under achiever. He could be a doctor and a good one. He could do more good as a doctor even if he wasn't in the most dangerous places in the world than he can as some Army medic. He just won't listen to me."

Kate looked at Rick and smiled. "I have some experience with that and things still worked out pretty well."

"I told Vince that dad knew people that could get him out of the Army and he could go to college and go to med school, but he wasn't interested." She sighed. "They're headed back to Georgia. Vince was saying good bye. He doesn't think it's likely we'll ever meet again. Two different worlds was what he said."

Rick sighed. "Things aren't always going to go the way you'd like, Alexis. You'll have to face that."

"I know, but it's just such a waste." Alexis took a bite. "His friends are nice, but so different from anyone I've known. They're pretty smart, but didn't go to the best schools or worry at all about what college they'd get into. Even now they don't think much beyond going to a community college somewhere, maybe."

"Call it a learning experience, then." Kate suggested.

Alexis pushed her plate away. "I need to go study." She headed upstairs without another word.


	13. Chapter 13

Who Are You?

By

UCSBdad

Disclaimer: As everyone knows, Kate owns Castle. Rating: M, occasionally. Time: Season Seven.

 **Chapter Twelve**

They didn't see Johnson for another two days. When they did, he was standing outside of the loft when Rick and Kate left for the precinct. "I may have something for you. We'll take my car."

The three got in.

"I asked your two detectives to meet us near where we're going. Hope you don't mind, Detective."

"Would it bother you if I did mind?" Kate snapped.

"Not one bit."

"I thought so."

Rick decided he'd better intervene. "Where are we going and why?"

"I got a line on one of the out of town shooters who killed the three cops. He's Reggie Black from Detroit. Reggie was a punk kid then, picked because he was a juvenile. If they got caught, he'd probably get a better deal than older shooters would. Reggie stayed in the life and prospered. He prospered until about three months ago. Reggie felt he got cheated by his boss and they had words. Reggie decided words weren't getting him anyplace, so he put two rounds into his boss's head. The boss's two brothers got upset and put out a contract on Reggie. He's desperate to get into witsec, but not so desperate that he'll take the word of some kind of spook who isn't a cop that he'd get into witness protection. So, I need to get you involved in this."

"Are you sure this guy knows who set up the hit on the cops. Not just that it was Izquerida, but the dirty cop Izquerida got to?"

"Reggie says his boss told him the whole story at a party a couple of years ago. And if he's bullshitting us, we can toss his ass back out on the street."

"How did you find out about Reggie?" Kate asked.

"National technical means." Johnson said unhelpfully.

Kate was about to speak, but Castle beat her to it. "I think that's spook speak for guys who sit in basements in Washington with huge computers and listen to other people."

"Is that where you got word of Reggie?" Kate demanded. "That's not legal."

"I didn't say that, did I?"

Johnson began to slow down to park. "There's Ryan and Esposito, looking like a couple of plain clothes cops. Good thing this neighborhood is full of more or less law abiding citizens, otherwise their cover would be so blown."

Castle looked around. The area was filled with fairly nice condos. "Who does Reggie know here?"

"An old girlfriend. She used to be a mid-level drug dealer, but got out of the life. Now, instead of importing drugs, she imports cheap clothes from sweatshops around the world. It pays just as well and fewer people want to kill you."

They met up with Ryan and Esposito and headed for the condo. "Fifth floor." Johnson said. "Unit 537."

The elevator was just about at the fifth floor when they heard the gunshots. The elevator door opened and they saw a hooded man leaving a unit at the end of the hallway heading for a stairwell. Kate went for her sidearm only to be pushed aside by Johnson. The hooded man fired a shotgun at them and Kate felt a shotgun pellet hit her vest, knocking her backwards.

"Kate!" Castle screamed, grabbing her and also blocking Ryan and Esposito from taking any shots. She did hear the distinctive bark of the Colt, however. By the time Kate got herself unwound from Castle, the hallway was empty.

"Got him, but he's still moving." Johnson said, trotting down the hallway. "See who's in the unit he left."

Kate glared at the retreating back. "Espo, you go with Johnson. Ryan, Castle, you're with me."

"You've been shot." Castle said, pulling Kate back to the elevator. "You need to go to the hospital."

"Look." Kate said, showing her vest to her husband. "One buckshot pellet. It didn't even penetrate the vest. I'll have a bruise later, okay, Castle?"

"Should I kiss it and make it better?"

She smiled at him. "Tonight. Not now."

It was too late by the time they entered the condo. A woman was dead from a close range shotgun blast to the head. A dead man was sprawled across a couch in the living room, one hand almost on a pistol in his waistband. They made sure the rest of the unit was clear.

"Ryan, call this in. Get uniforms out here and get CSU going. We'll need…"

"He got away." Johnson said, coming in with Esposito. "We heard a car racing away so maybe street cams will help. But he left his shotgun behind and I did hit him. Got some real nice blood spatters in the hall and down the stairs. If he's a pro, we won't find any prints on the weapon, and probably no DNA or other evidence."

"Kate, come with me." Rick took her hand and pulled her to a bedroom.

"Castle! We are not making out at a crime scene." She said, shocked.

"You've been shot. You say your vest stopped the slug. I want to make sure. Now come with me."

He tugged on her wrist, but she just glared at him. "Castle, if you don't…."

"You should go, Detective Beckett." Johnson said. "I've seen people who get so charged up on their own adrenaline that they don't notice a serious wound. Go. Nothing's happening here now. Let your husband check you out."

"He'll check her out, all right." Espo said.

"I heard that, Espo." Kate called back over her shoulder.

"And she'll get you for that." Castle added.

Rick and Kate came back a few minutes later. "I'm fine." She announced.

"Fine?" Castle said with smirk. "She's spectacular." That got him an elbow in the ribs even though Kate grimaced when she hit him.

Kate glared at everyone. "Make sure CSU gets that blood spatter. If it's the shooter's and he's in the system. We have him."

He was in the system.

Rick, Kate, Ryan, Esposito and Johnson sat watching their suspect who sat in the interrogation room with his attorney while Gates had left the interrogation room.

Captain Gates came into the room and sat down across from the two men. "Sorry for the delay, but we have some news. Captain McCarty, I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but shortly after you called him yesterday morning, your brother, Brian McCarty, killed himself with a gunshot to the head. According to the Miami PD, McCarty removed the hard drive from his computer and dropped it in a vat of battery acid. By the time the Miami officers got to it, it was just sludge." Gates smiled coldly." Of course that's good for you, since you can try to shift as much of the blame as you can onto a man who can no longer defend himself."

The lawyer bridled. "Captain Gates! I object to the characterization of my clients actions. He's come in here…."

Gates cut him off. "Because he would have bled out if he hadn't called for emergency help and he kindly called his accomplices so they could make their getaways. Leaving him as the only person we have now to tell the story. And yes, the DA will always favor the first person to rat out his accomplices, as we all know. Don't worry, you could even get murder two out of this rather than life without parole or the needle."

Gates put her glasses on and checked her notes. "Now, we need to continue the interrogation of NYPD Captain Ronald McCarty. What about the murder of the three officers? Dunn, Borelli and Grenzler."

McCarty shook his head. "Those three were idiots. We told them that the one sure way for a dirty cop to get caught was to walk around with more money than they should have. But would those three listen? No, of course not. They took money and drugs and had parties with hookers. They kept bitching about not having any walking around money."

"So you decided to have them killed?" Gates said.

"That was Brian. First they killed Moncrief. It was a joke, they said. They were just pretending they were going to shoot him, but he pulled a knife and slashed one of them, and they did shoot him. Then the three morons beat up Izquerida and his damned family. They were out of control. So, Brian decided we had to act."

"And what did Brian McCarty do?" Gates asked with just a touch of sarcasm.

"We fed the cops some bullshit story about there being an undercover FBI investigation in the area and that they should not try to retrieve the money until we gave then the all clear. Brian went to the place where Moncrief's body was and put a camera we'd taken from them with photos of them with some hookers on it in the money bag. Also a ledger that one of the idiots was carrying. We hoped that when they investigated the killing of the cops, they'd find the body and the evidence that the three were dirty and that'd be the end of it. Then Brian called Izquerida and told him, without letting on exactly who we were, that we knew he had to do something about the cops who'd humiliated him and his family. We told him the cops would be back at that building to collect some cash and that he'd let them know when. He also explained that things would be different. No more cowboy rough stuff. It was going to be a business proposition from now on. Just a tax for doing business in New York."

"We've been told that Izquerida made Brian McCarty and called him."

"Bullshit. That's just some drug dealer trying to make himself look good. Big, tough guy, messing with the cops."

"So your nephew, Henry McCarty wasn't involved?"

McCarty shook his head. "What? Straight out of the Academy? Not a chance. Even those three morons weren't dumb enough to try to bring him in."

"Do you have any idea where Henry McCarty is now? It seems the NYPD owes him an apology. I'm sure Dunn did send him for ice cream just as he said."

"No idea, Captain. He just up and resigned and disappeared. As far as I know, no one in the family ever heard from him again." He shook his head. "This'll be all over the papers, won't it? Hank will hear about it and he'll really have the last laugh."

Gates looked at him coldly. "Considering how the NYPD and his family treated him, I doubt he'll do much laughing."

Gates looked at her notes. "How did you find out about Reggie Black?"

McCarty sighed. "Another idiot. Trying to play both ends against the middle. He was trying to make a deal with us in case his ride into witsec didn't work out. If I'd gotten there five lousy minutes earlier…."

Gates looked at her notes. "So, Brian McCarty worked at One PP which gave him access to all sorts of useful information while you were in Narcotics. And Detective Oliver McCarty, another nephew, was also in one this? He was in the Police Intelligence Unit?"

"That's correct."

"To handle the actual payoffs, you brought in two other officers? James Moore, now a Detective? Isn't he the brother of McCarty's ex-wife, Carolyn Moore?"

"Yeah, Jimmy was already bitching all the time about how the bleeding hearts were just letting drug gangs and others run wild. Tom Moore, his cousin, was kind of a loose cannon anyway. He'd already been in some scrapes with IA. We McCartys were related by marriage to the Moores even before Hank and Carolyn married, and we were both cop families. It was better to keep it in the family."

The interrogation went on for another hour until Gates was convinced they'd covered everything. Then Captain Ronald McCarty was taken off to be booked.

When Kate opened the door, she found another Detective standing there, her hand raised to knock.

"Detective Moore? What brings you here?" Kate said, trying to block the door.

"I'd like to see my ex-husband, if I could."

"Detective Moore, I don't…"

"I'm not stupid, Beckett. I know he's in here. And I want to talk to hm."

"Let her in. My cover is over anyway." McCarty said.

Kate opened the door fully and led her team out. "We'll leave you two alone." She closed the door.

The two stood there, looking at each other. Finally Carolyn spoke. "You've changed, Hank."

He nodded. "You look about the same."

"I'm sorry. I should have stayed with you, but the whole family, both families were so angry at you….I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

McCarty shrugged. "Too late now."

"But you're a Fed now? So things worked out? Who are you with?"

"I'm not exactly a Fed. US Army these days."

"With that haircut?" Carolyn tried to keep it light.

"Special Forces. We like to try to not look too military."

"Um, Hank when you go to see your family, I'd like to be there so that…."

He cut her off. "They've had no interest in me for fifteen years and I haven't had much interest in them for about as long." He checked his watch. "I have a few things to do and then I can go over to McGuire Air Force Base and get a bird going back downrange. I'll be out of here by tonight."

"You won't stay for a while? Your family will want to make it up to you. This'll be a huge shock to them to find out both families are….." She stopped. "I guess I have to use the word. Both families are dirty."

He shook his head slowly. "I proved to myself anyway a long time ago that I'm not a coward. Multiple tours in Afghanistan and Iraq and some other shitty places, three Purple Hearts and now I have a whole new set of brothers. I don't need or want whatever it is the McCarty family has for me."

"You won't ever come back?"

He shrugged again. "Maybe in another fifteen years. Who knows?" McCarty looked at her. "It won't be easy for you, you know. Your family being dirty. Everyone will wonder if you knew, or if you were in on it. They'll wonder if your fiancé was being brought into the family business, so to speak. You'll hear the whispers, just like I did. It'll be bad. I hope it doesn't screw up your life like it did mine."

McCarty pushed past her and opened the door. He walked over to Kate and her team. He held out his hand. "You're a good cop, Detective. See you around. I'm headed back downrange tonight."

"You won't stay for…."Kate stopped, not sure what he'd want to stay for.

"Miles to go before I sleep." Was all he said.

He shook hands with Castle, Esposito and Ryan, then waved to Gates who was on the phone. Finally he turned to Carolyn Moore. "See you around, Detective Moore. Maybe."

As he disappeared into the elevator, Ryan shook his head. "Hardheaded son of a bitch."

Kate nodded. "He had help getting that way."

The news that a ring of crooked cops were at the heart of One PP caused a media feeding frenzy. While most of the reporters camped outside One PP, the 12th Precinct was not overlooked. Captain Gates did not win any friends among the media. She didn't care.

In response to questions about Henry McCarty, One PP issued a press release that said, truthfully, if not completely, that the NYPD had been in touch with Henry McCarty and that Mr. McCarty did not wish to have any contact with the NYPD or with the media. No other information was given, and Detective Carolyn Moore, who might have added to the story, remained quiet.

To avoid the media, Rick and Kate snuck off to the Hamptons for the weekend. They were sprawled on the bed in the master bedroom, naked and sated after making love.

"It's ironic, you know." Kate said.

"Use of irony. I'm impressed. In what way is this ironic?"

"Brian McCarty went to Florida to better be able to launder his ill-gotten gains. But he became a millionaire honestly through his security company. In the end, the money he stole just caused him to kill himself instead of going to prison."

Castle nodded. "Very good. I have taught you well, Grasshopper. And everyone else comes out of this badly. The rest of his accomplices have been captured and are facing prison. The McCarty and Moore families have to live with the shame of having dirty cops in their midst, which is devastating for a cop family. Carolyn Moore has to live with the fact that she divorced a man she loved for no reason."

Kate quickly ran her lips over his. "I'll never divorce you if you're ever accused of anything."

"I'll probably be guilty, you know."

Kate kissed him again. "I'm sure you'll be guilty, but I love you too much." She snuggled against him. "And the McCartys who were so embarrassed at Henry's supposed cowardice now know, courtesy of Carolyn, that he's been in more danger than the whole family put together and is no coward. Anything but."

"I wonder how Henry McCarty really feels about all of this? I mean, I was a completely different person until I met you. You changed me utterly and I couldn't be happier. I wonder if he still resents his family and the NYPD, or if he thinks that everything worked out for the best?"

"We could track him down and ask him." She suggested. "Or we could go for round two."

"Round two. I understand Syria is awful this time of year."

 **Author's note #1.** Tomorrow we'll start with After A Deadly Game, a somewhat longer one of my traditional "After…" stories. After that, I'm working on After Captain Kate and the Hurricane, in which we return to Captain Kate Beckett, captain of the pirate ship _Revenge_. I have several other stories I'm thinking about set in the Castle universe, but haven't written anything on them.

 **Author's note #2**. To the guest who wrote to me about Johnson/McCarty's weapon in Chapter Five. My police experience was in the USAF Security Police in the late 60's, early 70's. We used only .38 caliber ball ammunition in our pistols. Hollow points or any other kind of dum-dums were not authorized. But, our main weapon was the M16 rifle, which could do all sorts of bad things to the body. As I recall, civilian police then also used ball and no hollow points. However, I'll accept that they do use hollow points now. My bad. As for Teflon cop killer rounds, note that Esposito never said that the Teflon made the slugs go through protective vests. He just identified them as cop killers because the slugs had a Teflon coating. He never said that Teflon caused them go through protective vests. I know that the Teflon coating is to prevent wear on the barrels due to the heavy hardened brass/ steel bullets that do penetrate some vests.

Anyway, thanks for reading and commenting.


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